Coming Home
by cr8zymommy
Summary: For years now, Spencer's been carrying a burden around with him everywhere he goes. A wife that he swears is missing, even if police never believed him. She vainshed one day, leaivng only a note, a note he swears she didn't willingly write. What happens when, after years and years of being gone, she finally comes home? What really happened to her and where has she been? Reid/OFC
1. Chapter 1

**I know this was posted in my drabbles, but for those that don't read those and for those that are just stumbling across this story, I'm reposting it now as the prologue to my newest story, Coming Home. :) I'm actually writing a het story, imagine that! Wow. I'm committing to a full on het story. I don't even know what to do with myself or why I'm attempting this and if it doesn't come out great, I apologize. Het isn't typical for me. Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

There were times that Spencer Reid couldn't help but think his memory was a curse. On the nights that he was plagued by nightmares, images of things he'd rather never see again coming to life to haunt in him with detail remembered so clearly it seemed all the more, those were the nights he was convinced it was a curse. When someone said just the right word or he saw just the right thing and a memory would pop up like a fist to the face, transporting him to another time and another place that he wished he could forget, he hated having an eidetic memory.

While his memory did mostly pertain to things he _saw_, that didn't mean it worked exclusively in that way. Strictly visual remembrance would fall more into the category of photographic memory. While people with a photographic memory recall visual information, someone with an eidetic memory isn't limited to merely visual. Many of his memories included other sensory information. Visual, auditory, tactile, taste and smell. Yet there were positives about his memory. He had used it to save many lives since he'd joined the Bureau. To save even one life made it worth the horrible trade-offs that came with it, in his opinion.

But more than that, his eidetic memory gave him the ability to call up memories he actually _wanted_ to relieve. Instead of just thinking of a fond time, he could sit back and close his eyes and, with just a little concentration, he could watch that memory roll past like a movie on a screen and for a little while, he could pretend. He could be happy.

He looked down at the picture he held in his hands, the only photo he kept of her in his apartment. It was too difficult to keep the others around him; then he had no control over the memories. They would swarm him each time he came home. But this one picture, set beside his bed, was perfect. In the photo stood a much younger Spencer, glasses slid low on his nose, very obviously laughing as he tried to balance the weight of the petit woman that was on his back. The woman was laughing as well, her legs wrapped around his waist, one hand on his shoulder and the other up to hold her hat on her head. Under the hat spilled that long brown hair, hanging down to the small of her back in its customary braid. Bright, beautiful green eyes showed the love and humor she was feeling inside. His Mikayla, always so full of love and life.

Spencer looked at that picture and smiled. He remembered when it had been taken. It was a memory he'd visited many times. He remembered talking with their friend Colby, not knowing that Mikayla was creeping up behind him, chatting about the pictures Colby was taking around the campus, and then all of a sudden Mikayla let out a wild laugh and she was landing on his back, almost toppling him over. He'd just barely managed to catch himself, which was amazing in and of itself for someone as graceless as him, and he'd been unable to do anything but laugh as she'd grabbed his shoulder and bounced, shouting out "Giddy-up!" That had been when Colby had snapped the picture.

He smiled as he settled back against his pillows, the picture propped up on his chest. As always, one memory led to another, coming from the place in his mind where he stored everything about her. The first one that came was the first time he'd ever met her. Smiling, Spencer closed his eyes and lost himself in his memories.

* * *

_It shouldn't have been so nerve-racking to simply sit in a chair and wait, yet thirteen year old Spencer couldn't deny the obvious. He fought not to wring his hands together, not to rub at his palms or his knuckles. This was no big deal. He didn't need to sit here and overreact about something that was so simple. He'd already been accepted into the school—this was just a personal meeting with Cal Tech's President, that was all. Nothing serious. The man just wanted to meet him and welcome him and run over the different safety procedures they'd set in place for him. But he couldn't shake that nervous feeling._

_"You look timorous." A girl's southern drawl said from nearby._

_Spencer almost jumped out of his chair. He'd been so focused on trying not to fidget that he'd missed the sound of someone coming. Now he turned to look and found a girl that looked smaller than him, both height and frame, with big green eyes and brown hair pulled into a braid, dressed in blue jeans and a plain blue t-shirt. Her words suddenly registered and he found himself surprised at what word she's chosen to use. It caught his attention enough that he actually found his voice to speak to her. "Timorous? That's a rather interesting choice of word."_

_"It's another way of saying that you look nervous." She explained, the drawl more pronounced. Her explanation wasn't scornful or mocking, just a simple offering of the definition. Smiling at him, she sat down in the chair beside him, pulling her legs up so she could turn to look at him. "Are you here with your family or something?"_

_"N-No." Curse that stammer! He hated when that happened. Hated how ridiculous it made him sound. "I'm going to be starting my first term here tomorrow."_

_Her eyebrows rose up and she looked impressed enough that Spencer found himself sitting up just a little bit straighter. "Wow! So you're definitely someone smart then. Are you taking jump start courses or are you fully graduated from high school?"_

_This girl didn't speak like any girl his age that he knew. Then again, he didn't know many girls his age. But she didn't speak like any of the older girls he'd known in his high school, either. She spoke, well, like he did sometimes, with a different vernacular than the average kid. It intrigued him. He'd looked into the school and hadn't seen any other underage students. "I graduated last year." Summoning his courage, he asked her "Are you a student here as well?"_

_To his surprise, the girl laughed out loud. "Are you kidding me?" She said with a final giggle. "My mama would have kittens if I started my college education this early. Plus, I might qualify solely on my English credits, but as my Daddy likes to point out, my math skills are sorely lacking."_

_Though he heard the rest of what she said, Spencer couldn't' stop himself from gaping at one part of her little speech. "Have kittens?" He squeaked slightly on the words and for once, didn't notice enough to curse it. "What do kittens have to do with you attending college? That seems a rather strange thing to say. It makes no sense whatsoever."_

_Once more she laughed and Spencer found he wasn't flinching from it as he usually might. Her laughter didn't hold any of the usual scorn or maliciousness that he was used to. It just sounded…happy. "Isn't that just the most confusing and entertaining expression? My Mama uses it all the time. I've tried to research the etymology of it but so far I've come up with no real answers. But I do know that it's an expression that means to get extremely upset about something. I love learning new things like that."_

_"Phrases like that always confuse me." Spencer admitted shyly. When she didn't laugh, he felt brave enough to continue. "I believe that, if a person has something to say, they should say it plainly. What's the point of wrapping it in expressions and things that obscure the meaning and wrap it in so much else that, more often than not, the true meaning behind it has been lost?"_

_"Really? I find it fascinating to listen to the different ways that people speak. The variations in dialect from even one end of a state to another, or from the West coast to the East coast. When I'm old enough that my Mama can't stop me anymore, I'm going to go to college and study Linguistics, I believe. Or maybe I can get Daddy to help me get started before I'm eighteen. They offer courses on Linguistics over at the Pasadena City College. That's not that far from here. I could stay with Daddy while I take my classes."_

_"Sugar bee, are you bugging our new student?" A deep male voice asked with amusement._

_Spencer looked up and saw the President of Cal Tech standing nearby, a smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the girl. The girl just grinned at him and said "I like him, Daddy. Can he come over for dinner this week?"_

_Daddy? Oh man…the President here was her _father_. He couldn't believe it. Wait a second, what? His brain caught up with the conversation and he realized what she'd just asked. Come over for dinner? She wanted him to come over for dinner? But…no one ever invited him over. Ever. He wasn't the type of person kids made friends with. He was the type they laughed at and quickly moved on from._

_The man let out a laugh that was warm and deep. "I don't see why not. It's nice to see the two of you have made friends. I'll make sure to set something up, sugar. Now, why don't you go ahead and go down back to where you're actually supposed to be, hm?"_

_Not flustered in the least bit by the chiding, the girl rose to her feet. Before she left, though, she gave Spencer one more of her wide smiles. "By the way, I don't believe I said it before. I'm Mikayla."_

_"I'm Spencer." He said shyly._

_"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Spencer. I'll see you later this week!"_

_And like a flash, she was racing off, leaving Spencer slightly stunned. It must have been obvious on his face because the man laughed once more. "Don't worry, Spencer. She has that effect on everyone when they first meet her. You'll get used to it. For twelve, she's a bright girl, but she's definitely a pistol. Now, why don't we go into my office…?"_

* * *

That had been the very first time he'd met Mikayla. Maybe it wasn't anything spectacular to anyone else, but it had been to him. It had marked a multitude of firsts. The first time he'd managed to actually have a full conversation with a girl without embarrassing himself or losing his voice. The first time someone _his age_ had willingly sat there and talked with him. The first time he'd made an almost instant friend. There was just something about her that made Mikayla impossible to dislike. She had such a love of life that seemed to fill the space around her and she had an easy laugh that never failed to make others smile.

He'd gone to dinner that week, and then twice the next week, and from there, the two built a friendship faster than Spencer had known was possible. When summer had ended, she'd gone back to her mother's home, back in Georgia. Her parents were divorced and her time was split between them. When school was in, she was at home. When she was on vacation, she came to California. It worked for her, she'd told him. But when she went home, they exchanged addresses and phone numbers, and not a day went by that they didn't speak to one another.

The next summer the two had been inseparable. She was the first true friend he could ever remember having. When the feelings of friendship grew, turning into more, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't until he was just shy of sixteen and she was fifteen that he finally bit the proverbial bullet and worked up the courage to ask her on a date. That memory came next, slipping forward and transporting him back.

* * *

_His class done for the day, Spencer had some free time and, as usual, was enjoying it with Mikayla. Each had a coffee in hand as they walked side by side through Throop Memorial Garden. It was a pretty little garden on campus and it was someplace the both of them enjoyed. Him, because of the calm he found here. Her, because it was just a little taste of nature for her in the middle of the city settings. Walking it with each other just made it that much more enjoyable. He'd come walking here today with her for a purpose and he wasn't going to leave until he at least tried. For days now he'd been building the courage for this. Finally, finally, he was going to do what he was aching to do and ask her out on a date._

_He was rambling on a little tonight, he knew. Nerves always did that to him. But, as always, she didn't complain in the least, even when he rambled about topics she knew nothing about. When he finally wound down about his day, she was still beside him and she graced him with one of those smiles that, just recently, had started to fill his stomach with the fluttering of nerves. "At least I know, no matter what, I'll always have a friend that's good with numbers." She teased him. She had no problems joking about her lack of ability with math. The numbers always got so flip-flopped, she told him. Still smiling, she bumped his arm. His latest growth spurt had put him quite a bit taller than her. His chin was level with her forehead. So, her shoulder nudged his bicep more than anything._

_"Oh!" Abruptly he remembered something. Reaching down into his bag, he pulled out a book, turning to hand it to her. "I found this when I was in that secondhand bookstore we like. I thought of you immediately." _

_Mikayla's face lit up and he swore her eyes were almost glowing with enjoyment as she reached out and took the book from his hands. It was a copy of Shakespeare's Othello. Not long ago she'd lost her copy of it to water damage when a guest had spilled water on her while she was reading on her mother's porch. It was one of her favorite books and she'd been devastated at its loss. "Oh, Spencer, look at it. It's in such good condition!" Turning, she gave him a fast, brief hug, making his heart race. "Thank you so very much! You are the absolute best friend a girl could ever ask for."_

Just do it already, Spencer. Quit procrastinating and step up and be a man_ he chided himself mentally. As she fell back into step beside him, he chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to keep himself from fiddling with his hands or his coffee. He didn't want her to see how very nervous he was. "You know," He started out as casually as he could. "the theater over at the Boston Court is putting on a production of Othello this weekend. I've heard it's very well done."_

_"I've never actually seen a theater production before." One arm curling the book to her chest, Mikayla tipped her head up toward him and smiled._

_His heart beat a little faster and he couldn't quite meet her eyes, but he made himself keep going. He could do this. He would do this. "Would you like to go with me?" The words came out in a rush, but he got them out. They'd been said and there was no taking them back. Oh, God, he felt like he was going to be sick. What if she said no? What if she didn't think of him like that? What if he'd just messed up the best friendship he'd ever had in his whole life just because of stupid hormones?_

_Then she was smiling at him, a hint of rose filling her cheeks, and a shyness he'd never seen there before. "I'd like that." Her voice was softer, that Georgia drawl just a little more pronounced._

_Suddenly feeling much lighter and much more at ease, Spencer smiled right back at her. Inside, all he could think was _She said YES!

_The two walked silently on, each wearing their own smiles and thinking ahead to the coming weekend._

* * *

He'd been afraid that the date would end awkward. The closer it got to it, the more nervous he'd become. Smiling, Spencer laughed at himself. He should have known better. Everything that should have been awkward with her always ended up being just right. She had a way of making him feel almost—normal. He wasn't some socially awkward genius when he was around her. The way she looked at him, the way she smiled, made him feel as if he were someone special.

Because he only had a permit, he couldn't drive them to the theater, but neither minded walking from the campus over there. Her father agreed to meet her at the campus to bring her home. It was only a fifteen minute walk and neither of them minded that. She'd been absolutely beautiful, he remembered. Stunning. It was one of the few times he'd ever seen her in a dress. She'd worn a beautiful dark purple cocktail dress, perfectly respectable for a fifteen year old girl, and had even pulled out heels, though he knew she wasn't fond of the. Her simple wrap had been thin in the night air and only now, with quite the distance of time, he could look back and see that it had been deliberate on her part. It had allowed her to get chilled, which had of course prompted him to hand over his coat and wrap her in it.

Spencer didn't remember a single moment of the play. He spent almost the entire time watching her discreetly as she was drawn into the play. She had such a wonderfully expressive face, he found himself able to watch her constantly.

She'd talked almost the whole walk back, discussing different aspects of the production versus the actual play, and for once Spencer didn't feel the need to talk. His coat was draped over her and her small hand was tucked into the curve of his arm and he felt like he was on top of the world. And when they reached the meeting place and saw her father's car and she thanked him so prettily for a wonderful night, he had done what had felt right and had bent and they'd shared their very first kiss.

After that first date, they went out once to twice a week, either out to eat or to the movies or even just wandering together in the afternoon. Honestly, it wasn't anything they hadn't done before, but now it held an entirely different tone to it. Within a month, he officially asked her to be his girlfriend and she'd happily said yes. For Spencer, life was perfect. Absolutely perfect. As he got closer to eighteen, they took to discussing their future. How marriage came up, he never could recall. It was just a topic that was one of many that they spoke of. Something that they both wanted together one day. Though there was no official proposal, to them they were engaged from that conversation on.

To their friends, they stopped being Spencer or Mikayla and became 'Spencer and Mikayla'. A unit, always spoken of together. He was closer to her than anyone in his life. There was nothing that he couldn't tell her and the same went for her to him. They shared their secrets, their fears. She told him how it had felt to be in a home that was part of a messy divorce and what it was really like to be shuttled between parents who couldn't even stand to communicate with each other. She told him of her dreams to write a book one day. In turn, he told her of his father leaving when he was ten and what it had been like to care for his mentally ill mother and of the torment he'd endured as a child prodigy in a public high school. There was nothing they kept apart from each other.\

Then, one night, just days before Spencer turned eighteen, the two were talking on the phone about Spencer's up and coming trip back home to Vegas—the trip he would make once he was eighteen and could legally get his mother the help she needed—and the subject changed to something he had never thought it would.

* * *

_"Spencer, can I ask you something?"_

_The hesitancy to Mikayla's voice had Spencer instantly sitting at attention. He straightened up on his couch, eyebrows furrowing down with worry. "Of course you can. You know that. What is it?"_

_"Well, you and I, I mean, even though there's been no proposal, and I'm not complaining about that at all! But even though there hasn't been one, one could state that we have an understanding between us, correct?"_

_Surprised at her choice of topic and still wondering what exactly was going on, he said "I've been under the impression that we do."_

_"I was just wondering, well, if you'd thought about _when_. You know, when you'd like to get married."_

_There was something going on here. Mikayla wasn't the type for idle questions. If she was bringing up this topic, it was for a purpose. There was something on her mind that she wanted to say or ask but she was going about it in a roundabout sort of way. There were times Spencer would let her do things her way, simply following along until she got to the heart of it. This time, however, he went the other route. Bluntness. "What's going on, Mikayla? What is it you really want to ask me?"_

_He heard her sigh over the phone before she said "You know, a gentleman would've simply answered a lady's question and allowed her to direct the conversation to where she wanted."_

_This was a familiar playful argument they had all the time. With her southern upbringing, there were things she was used to, a certain way things were, that she had had to teach to Spencer, who hadn't grown up with those rules. Most of them he did already; they were simple rules of etiquette. He had always been a mannerly individual. But some of the things were most definitely particular to the south and therefore he was unfamiliar with them. He was her 'gentleman in training' she teased him. "I'm still in training, so I can take a few liberties. What's going on?"_

_For a long moment she was quiet. He could practically picture what she would look like as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders in that way of hers when she was approaching something she felt the other person wasn't going to like. "Now just hear me out before you say anything, Spencer. I'd like the chance to present my arguments before any form of rebuttal."_

_"I agree."_

_"This back and forth travel between us is becoming increasingly difficult. You're going to be eighteen soon and I still have almost a full year before I turn eighteen. Despite having graduated high school a year early, Mama isn't inclined to let me move out with Daddy quite yet. I think she's afraid I'll start more schooling and she's still holding out hopes of me settling down first and putting aside the notion of school."_

_That made Spencer snort softly. No matter whether she 'settled down' or not, Mikayla was going to go to college. Nothing her mother said was going to stop her._

_"Exactly." She said in agreement to his sound. "But that's Mama's view. Now, that means that, for the next almost year, she's going to keep me down here. I won't be able to come back out there but for occasional short visits. Are you with me so far?"_

_"I am."_

_"Good. Now, you know I love you, Spencer, and you know I want to spend my life with you, just as I know you love me and you want to spend your life with me. There's no one else for either one of us. So, marriage is a logical assumption. The when of it shouldn't really matter, as it's in our plans anyways. So this is what I was thinking. When you go to Vegas to take care of your mother, I want to go with you. You'll be eighteen and I'll be seventeen still but with a notarized affidavit from my mother granting me permission, you and I could marry while in Vegas and I could return with you as your wife. Then, we would never have to be apart again." Her words rushed now, as if afraid that he would cut her off. "We're not average teenagers, you and I. We know what we want and we know that we want one another. The rest, we'll decide together. But if we already know that we're going to marry one day, why should we have to wait? Why not marry now and save ourselves a year of pain at being apart?"_

_Spencer sat there in silence as her words bounced around inside his head. She said nothing, only waited for him to speak. She knew him better than anyone and she knew he would need time to process this before he spoke. He would need to stop and think and process it all before he could formulate any kind of response._

_Marry? She wanted to marry now? But they were so young! Yet, Spencer dismissed that argument almost as quickly as it came in. She was right; they weren't the average teenagers. They did have an understanding that one day they would marry one another. What was the difference between marrying now or later? Later, they would both be older. Most likely she would be in college and he would, hopefully, be financially secure in some job and therefore better able to support her. But they would have to spend the next year apart from one another. Whereas, if they married now, she could come home with him and they'd never have to be apart again. Maybe he was still in school and maybe he didn't have a steady and secure job to support her with yet, but they could work with that. They could make it work. She could stay here with him at his apartment._

_Even as he thought about it he knew what his answer would be. Not only because he loved her and because it felt so immensely right, but because he had never been able to refuse her anything she wanted._

_"Are you sure your mother would sign for it?" He asked with a smile. _

_Her answer was almost bursting with excitement. "Positive! Does this…does this mean…?"_

_"I guess it means I'll pick you up from the airport in Vegas. You can fly straight there and meet me there. And we'll have to get rings sized when we're there. I have the rings my mother gave me for the future, whenever I decided to settle down._

_Her loud scream had echoed in his ear and made him wince even as he was grinning broadly. Married. He was going to get married._

* * *

Their plan had gone off without a hitch. Only hours after arriving in Vegas, he'd picked her up from her flight. As promised, she'd had the notarized affidavit as well as all other paperwork ready to go. First they'd gone to the house and he had done what he'd originally gone for. Even now that memory made him wince. It had been so hard for him to go to the house with the men from Bennington and have to tell her that he was committing her. Her pleas were one of the memories that haunted him. Shaking his head, Spencer pushed that memory away and went to the one that came after it. After his mom had been taken from the house, Mikayla had come to him and held him and let him cry.

Then the two had cleaned themselves up, changed their clothes, and left the house to go apply for the license. They'd agreed that they would be married before they spent the night together. Despite what others thought, they had never slept together before. Both believed in waiting until they were married for that special moment.

It had been easier than they'd thought to get all the paperwork together and set the ball rolling. Spencer knew he'd never forgot how she looked in her simple sleeveless white dress, trailing down to her ankles, her hair bundled up on her head an shining with stones her mother had given her. He had thought to himself that the shine on them was nothing compared to the shine in her eyes. With the exchange of vows, they changed their lives as they became Dr. and Mrs. Reid. And the night that followed was one of his best memories of all.

The storm that had hit when they'd gone back home had been a huge one. Her father had been beyond furious. His first reaction was to contest it, but with the notarized affidavit from her mother, there was nothing he could do. The second was to demand that it be annulled. When she told him that was impossible, his temper had grown even more. Mikayla had begged Spencer to stay where he was and she'd pulled her father out of the room. What had happened between them, he didn't know. She never did tell him. But when they came back out, Alan had been much calmer, though obviously still not pleased. He'd plainly told Spencer that he had better make Mikayla happy or Alan was going to take it out of his hide. Spencer had gulped, nodded, agreed to it all, and had been thoroughly pleased when they'd been able to leave and go back to his—their—apartment.

Life became almost idyllic after that. With such an easy friendship and dating, it was no surprise to either of them how well they meshed together as husband and wife. They easily adapted to one another's routines and they spent almost all of their time together. It was no trouble at all for Mikayla to finish off the last of her credits for school and turn it in. And the minute she turned eighteen, she started her linguistics classes at Pasadena City College. They'd been married two years when Spencer was approached about applying to the FBI. He and her discussed it and she was all for him joining the Bureau. She was so proud of him over it. When he accepted, they prepared together to move.

They were happy together. At least, he had thought. One day had changed everything.

Though he'd started these memories to smile, it was inevitable that they ended with this one. They always did. Rolling onto his side in his bed, Spencer curled the photo to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as the last memory assaulted him.

* * *

_When Spencer opened the front door, he was surprised to see the apartment was dark. It was the very first sign that something was wrong. The first thing that was out of place. If she had no plans, Mikayla was always there, coffee just finishing brewing, setting the cups out on the table so they could have a late afternoon cup and discuss their days before having to start dinner or anything like that. It was how they both unwound and it was a routine Spencer loved. Yet now, there were no sounds at all in the apartment._

_His feet seemed almost leaden as he made his way in and turned the light on. Nothing looked out of place. Yet it felt empty. Why did it feel empty? What was going on here?_

_That was when he turned and when he saw the envelope on the table. It took him a long moment to gather the courage to walk over there and pick that envelope up. On the outside was written just his name, nothing more. Just 'Spencer'._

_When he pulled out the letter that was inside, his eyes traveled down the page quickly, reading the words that took his fairytale life and turned it upside down._

Spencer,

I'm sorry to have to do things this way. I didn't know how to say the words I wanted to say to your face. This is hard for me. I'm leaving Spencer. Please, don't come after me, don't look for me. Just let me go. This is what's best for both of us. I thought what we had was love but I've come to realize that it isn't. This isn't love.

I'm sorry.

Mikayla

_At first all he could do was stare. No! his heart cried. No! But the words on the page stayed the same. Mikayla was gone. She had left him, with just this simple note._

_No, he would not believe it! She wouldn't have done this. Not his Mikayla. She wouldn't' have left him and she wouldn't have left him through a note. She was a strong willed woman, a spitfire, and if there'd been problems then she would've brought it up somehow. She would've talked to him. Not leave him a note. Especially knowing how his father had left this way; this wasn't something she would have done to him. That meant….God. That meant someone had taken her._

_His heart in his throat, Spencer grabbed the phone and dialed the first number he could think of. The police._

* * *

No one had believed him when he told them that there was no way she would leave. When he insisted that the note was written under coercion, they had practically rolled their eyes at him. None of them had been willing to investigate a wife leaving her husband. The only one who believed him was her father, Alan. Together, the two had done everything they could. Alan had hired private detectives, even. But nothing came up. It was as if she'd vanished.

Eventually, when the date came that Spencer had to leave if he still wanted to make the academy, Alan had sat him down and told him he had to go. That, whether she'd left or was taken, she would never have wanted him to throw away all his dreams and pine for her. She would've wanted him to go on. And in the Bureau, maybe he could get the help he needed to find her. Maybe someone there would believe him and help him search.

Though it ripped him apart to do it, Spencer had finally agreed. He'd packed up the apartment, moved his things, and gone to the academy.

Almost five years had gone by since then. In one month it would be five years. And in that time he had heard nothing, seen nothing of her. No trace of her was found anywhere. In his heart he knew, he just knew she was alive. Just as he knew that she hadn't left him by choice. The fact that he found no trace of her — not under their married neither name nor under her maiden name— made him believe even more. It was as if she had dropped off the face of the earth.

With quiet tears streaming down his face, Spencer ended his memory session the same way he did every single time. He pressed a single kiss to the picture before setting it back on his nightstand. In the quiet of the room, he made the same vow he always did. "I will never give up until I find you."


	2. Chapter 2

**SO here's the thing. The prologue is really more of a one shot, but it's necessary to understand the story line, so I made it the prologue. But starting in this chapter, we go back a little to about season 2, after Jones. This is after what happened in Georgia. Does everyone get that okay? I hope so. From this point forward, there'll be no backward time jumps, so don't worry, it won't happen again Everything moves forward from here on out. Anyways, I really hope you guys like what I'm doing and I hope you enjoy this story. Until "Comfort" is finished, I'll be updating this story about once a week. After "Comfort" is done, I'll be turning my full attention to this. :) Thanks again, everyone!**

* * *

When Morgan walked into the bar that Friday night, the very last person he'd expected to see was Dr. Spencer Reid. There was no denying that it was him sitting up there at the bar, though. And, even though they had a rule against profiling one another, Morgan could stop himself from doing it just a little as he wove through the crowd and over to the corner of the bar. Spencer was slouching on his stool, his head bowed low, shoulders slumped, and almost empty drink in front of him. Everything in his body language screamed trouble and it kicked off every instinct Morgan had. What the hell was going on here? Since when was the kid a drinker? Seeing this after these past few months, after watching his friend spin out of control before finally finding his feet again after the horror in Georgia, this was beyond worrying for Morgan.

He pasted on his most casual smile to hide his fear—fear that Spencer had simply traded one addiction for another—and he strolled right up, stealing the seat beside his friend. "Hey, kid. I didn't expect to find you here."

Spencer lifted his head and looked right at him and Morgan knew with just that look that, holy shit, the kid was drunk as could be. The slurring words only cemented that thought. "Morgan! Hey, what're you doing here?"

"I was coming to have a drink, unwind, all that good stuff. What're you doing here, Reid? I didn't think you were much of a drinker." _I didn't think you really did anything else after getting that monkey off your back. What the hell's going on here, kid? What's wrong with you?_

Spencer didn't get the opportunity to answer. Just then the bartender walked over, eyeing Morgan slightly while stepping in front of Spencer. "Everything going all right down here?" He asked casually. The way he looked from Spencer to Morgan and back again told Morgan that the guy was very obviously protective of his very drunk customer. That made Morgan feel just a little bit better. At least he knew that, if Spencer did this more than he knew, there was someone here who was definitely looking out for him.

Smiling in that tipsy way drunks have, Spencer looked up at the bartender. "Hey, Jonas! This is m' best friend, Morgan." He reached a hand toward Morgan to gesture at him and his gesture almost knocked him off the stool. Quick reflexes had Morgan snapping forward and catching him before he could fall. He wrapped his arms around the kid and scooted him back up straight once more. "Damn, pretty boy." He swore lightly. "You're three sheets to the wind, aren't you?"

"Do you know…?" Spencer slurred the words horribly, almost indistinguishably. "The term 'three sheets to the wind' is actually derived from nautical terms? The 'sheet' in the phrase uses the nautical meaning of a rope that controls the trim of sail. If a sheet is loose, the sail flaps and doesn't provide control for the ship. Having several sheets loose, or 'to the wind', can cause the ship to rock about drunkenly. Someone very special taught me that. And I don't think that's an accurate description for myself, as I'm not lurching about. I'm sitting on a stool that, so far as I know, is not in motion." He looked around in confusion, as if contemplating that. "Is it?"

Oh lord. Even drunk, the kid rambled. Resisting rolling his eyes, Morgan looked to Jonas, who was still watching them. "I'm gonna go ahead and get him home. I think he's done in for the night."

Jonas nodded at him before looking back at Spencer. "I'll call and let Gideon know." He said, surprising Morgan completely.

He raised his eyebrows. "Gideon?"

"Yeah. He's usually the one to come get him."

That didn't sound good at all. Looking down at his friend, who he was still holding up, Morgan felt his worry grow. Spencer was slumped in his grip, one hand coming up onto the bar to reach for his glass. He looked back up at Jonas. "How often does he do this?"

Jonas neatly nipped the glass away from Spencer before he could pick it up. "I've been working here for years now. Past couple years, he comes in three times a year, same dates each time. He drinks himself into oblivion each time. First time, Gideon came, found him like you did. He gave me his number and told him to call him anytime the kid gets like this, or to call Hotch. One of them comes to get him each time and takes him home. If I don't call them to get him, they'll worry, so I gotta at least let them know you're taking him home."

That was just begging for more questions but Spencer chose that moment to try and move and Morgan suddenly had his hands full of a long, lanky, drunk profiler. He sighed and gathered Spencer up, balancing the man. Best to just get him out of here and tucked in at home. "Come on, kid, let's get you home." He said as he started to steer him out of the bar. Spencer grumbled something at him that Morgan couldn't quite hear over the noise of the bar. Soon as they were outside, Morgan said "What was that, Reid?"

"Don't wanna go home." Spencer slurred quietly. One of his arms was around Morgan's shoulder, allowing the older man to hold his wrist with that side while putting his other arm around Spencer's waist, keeping him balanced. For being so scrawny, the kid was a little hard to maneuver. "'S empty there. Cold."

Ah, hell. Morgan grimaced and steered them in the direction of his car. "Come on, pretty boy." He opted for saying. What else could he say in response to Spencer's comments? The kid's apartment _was_ empty and he imagined that there were some nights that Spencer probably couldn't help but get depressed about going home to a cold bed. All of them did at some point or another. There wasn't anything Morgan could do right now for his friend except get him home and in bed. Tomorrow, they could talk. Tomorrow he could try and talk to him and see if he could help Spencer get through whatever was going on. _Without_ him getting drunk over it.

Once Spencer was in the car and buckled in, Morgan went around to the driver's seat and climbed inside. In moments they were setting off down the road. It was a good thing he knew where Spencer's house was, because the kid looked like he was passed out against the window over there. Morgan lets out a soft little sigh. What is going on here? What on earth was going on with his friend? At first he'd been so afraid that Spencer had traded the Dilaudid for alcohol, but now, after hearing what Jonas said, it sounded like it was so much more. Years, this went on. On the same three dates each year. What was so special about these days? What was so hard on them that Spencer felt the need to drink to oblivion? There was nothing that Morgan knew about Spencer that would suggest today had any significance.

Those thoughts plagued him the whole way to Spencer's apartment. When they arrived, he was sure he was going to have to carry the kid up, but Spencer surprised him by actually moving. With some assistance, he stumbled his way into the building and up to his apartment. Outside Spencer's door, Morgan propped him up against the wall. "Where are you keys, kid?"

"Huh?" Spencer looked at him with confusion, his expression so sleepy. "Oh! I got 'em." One of his hands fumbled in his sweater pocket until Morgan finally swatted his hand away and reached in for him. Finally he got the apartment open and was practically hauling the kid in, kicking the door shut behind him. It wasn't the first time he'd been in Spencer's apartment, so Morgan easily led Spencer back to his room. He unceremoniously dumped Spencer into the bed before reaching over to turn on the lamp. Then he turned back, shaking his head. Spencer was lying flat on his back, arms spread out to the sides, legs dangling off the bed. "Man, I have never seen you drunk like this, Reid." He said as he bent to take off his friend's shoes.

Spencer made some kind of sound, not even flinching as his shoes were removed. When Morgan straightened once more, he debated for a minute before reaching out and making Spencer sit up. "Come on, let's at least get the sweater off you. I'll save your modesty in the morning and leave your pants and shirt on."

"Don't care." Spencer mumbled at him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes barely open, his body almost like a rag dolls. He didn't resist as Morgan took his sweater off. When the older man was done, Spencer flopped back on the bed once more. This time, however, he rolled to the other side, one hand reaching for the nightstand. Morgan saw a picture there right as Spencer grabbed it and he felt himself startle. In that picture was a younger Spencer, with a pretty brunette on his back, the both of them smiling, laughing. Who on earth was that girl? He'd never seen her before.

"It's her birthday." Spencer slurred softly. His words were just an aching whisper. "Another birthday. 'm s' sorry." Pulling the picture in, Spencer cradled it against his chest, his body curling around it in such a way that Morgan swore he could _feel_ the ache coming from him. He couldn't just stand there and do nothing, not when he was so obviously hurting. But he didn't know what to do. Without thinking, he found himself asking "Who is she, Reid?"

For a long moment he thought maybe Spencer hadn't heard him or that he'd finally passed out. Then there was a soft whisper and the answer he got was the very last thing Morgan had ever thought he'd hear from him. "M' wife." The words were faint, his voice just on the edge of fading into unconsciousness. "She's m' wife."

Shock widened Morgan's eyes. Wife? _Wife_? Holy shit. Holy mother fucking shit. His mouth opened to ask what the hell, what the fucking hell was he talking about, a wife? But he saw Spencer's body slump, the way his breathing seemed to have evened out, and he knew the kid had passed out. There would be no more conversation tonight. He would find out nothing more.

It only took a moment for Morgan to decide what to do. He tucked a blanket around Spencer before leaving the bedroom and going out to the living room, stopping off quickly to use the bathroom and grab a blanket form the linen closet. He'd crashed over here before; he knew where those kinds of things were. Then, after locking the door, he settled down on the couch and prepared himself for what would most likely be a sleepless night. Come morning, Spencer Reid had some things to answer, and Morgan wasn't going to leave until he got them.

* * *

The sound of his alarm had Spencer groaning loudly. Without lifting his head from the pillow, he shot a hand out and slapped around until he hit something hard and the buzzing finally—praise be!—stopped. It took him another few minutes to muster up the strength to move anything else. Oh, man, he definitely wasn't ready to get out of bed. His head was already pounding, even before he unburied it from the pillow. Not that he hadn't expected it. He knew the routine. His head would ache until about lunchtime. Thankfully he wasn't a puking drunk and he didn't feel sick the morning after. Just, his aching head.

Slowly, carefully, he sat up, one hand against his head. His body moved on autopilot, carefully rising from the bed an shedding the clothes he was wearing that still smelled of the booze he'd drank. Grabbing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, he headed to his bathroom and straight to the shower. It was step one in surviving the morning after. A shower and as little thinking in his aching head as possible. Step two was coffee.

Fifteen minutes later, slightly refreshed and dressed in clean clothes, he was heading out of the bathroom to start on step two. The smell of coffee didn't surprise him—Gideon always set up the pot to brew for him when he left. What did surprise him was that it wasn't Gideon standing in his kitchen. It was, oh holy shit, Morgan. Morgan standing there, large as life, preparing two cups in front of the pot. Morgan, wearing wrinkled clothes. Spencer's gaze flicked to the living room, seeing the blanket on the couch, and then back into the kitchen. Morgan who had apparently slept here last night. That meant that Morgan had been the one to bring him home. Shit. Shit.

Morgan said nothing as he turned around and walked toward him. He handed one cup to Spencer and then took his to the table. When he turned, Spencer got the second shock of the morning. On the table, right in the center, sat the picture of him and Mikayla. The stab to his heart was so quick, so sharp, it left him breathless. He stood there, clutching his mug like it was the only anchor in his world, that familiar pain raging through him, only able to silently watch as Morgan sat down at the table and looked up at him. "Who is she?"

The question was simple and yet it was so much more. Spencer clenched his hands tighter on his mug. It takes him a long moment to find the ability to speak once more. To push past the pain that was still so raw after yesterday and somehow make himself sound human. "It's a long story."

"I've got time."

Spencer's legs shook a little as he took the two steps that brought him to the table. He sank down into a chair, eyes never leaving that picture, his eyes tracing the familiar scene. It took a herculean effort to tear his eyes away and look at Morgan once more. His eyes dropped quickly down to his mug and he belatedly remembered that he had coffee. He took a few bracing sips, trying to steel himself for this. He was too raw for this. Too exposed. Yet the words seemed to come anyways. "She's my wife." He manages to say. And suddenly he wishes there was more than just coffee in his mug. He can't do this. Not here, not now, not sober. It's too much and it hurts and oh, _fuck_, it hurts so much he feels like he's breaking inside and yet he knows he's not. He swallowed another gulp of his coffee before looking at Morgan. "I met her when I was thirteen and just starting Caltech and she was this bubbly little girl. This little wisp of a thing that plopped down beside me and just started talking with the sweetest Georgia accent you've ever heard."

And suddenly, the story is coming out of him, pouring past him and he can't stop it, can't stop the memories. Staring at the top of his table he tells Morgan everything. Their first meeting, their first date, their marriage, her disappearance—everything. When he's done he can only sit there, hunched over in his chair, his cup of coffee abandoned. His arms are around his waist and it feels like it's the only thing holding him together. He hurts so much he doesn't know how he's not bleeding from it all. All these years and it still _hurt_.

"Jesus, Reid." Morgan finally breathes out when the silence had stretched on for a while. There was something in his voice, an almost choked sound that seemed to throb a little. "I never knew. I never even guessed."

Spencer closed his eyes and nodded his head. "I know." He whispered. The pain of his headache was gone; forgotten underneath the onslaught of this.

"Does….does anyone else know?"

"Gideon. Hotch. When I applied, I put down my spouse. But when I filled out my paperwork, I asked Gideon to be my next of kin. I had to explain to them why. They told me that, so long as it never interfered with my job, I was free to search in my free time. Discreetly." Pausing, he lifted one hand, wiping it over his mouth. "Garcia found the information in my file."

"Fuck." Morgan swore. "Just, fuck."

In his voice was something that caught Spencer's attention. He made himself lift his head and look at his friend. He had to look at him to say this. "I didn't tell you because I couldn't…I can't, I mean, it hurts, Morgan. More than anything in my life, it hurts. I know she didn't leave me. I _know_ it. Not willingly. I get so, so damn _tired_ of people trying to convince me she did, or looking at me with pity, or treating me like I'm some, some basket case. I know my wife. I know she didn't just up and leave and I couldn't just tell you guys and have you all look at me that way. I couldn't have you look at me and see…see someone who failed to protect his wife." That was the crux of it; why he kept it quiet to those that mattered to him. He didn't know if he could handle any more people knowing how badly he'd failed. It had been his job to protect her and he'd failed then, just as he failed every single day that she was still gone.

"You haven't failed." The quick defense from Morgan was so typical that Spencer almost smiled. "Hell, kid, it sounds like you've been busting your ass since then to find her. There's been no trace at all? Not a sign of her anywhere?"

He shook his head. "None. And if she left, she wouldn't have just vanished like this, Morgan." Looking at his friend, Spencer knew there was a plea in his voice. He couldn't stop it. "Garcia can't even find a trace of her. If she…if she left on her own, there'd be some trace somewhere. She wouldn't have just left like that, not with a note. She would've either sat me down to talk about what was wrong. She…she wouldn't do this. Not my Mikayla."

Morgan's eyes locked on his and the man nodded. "I believe you."

The serious way he said that, the honest look in his eyes, eased a tension in Spencer's shoulders. He believed him. It felt so _good_ to have someone say that to him and to know that they meant it. Because this was Morgan, because it was the man who was more like a brother than a friend, Spencer let his guard down enough to say "Gideon tries to, to get me to think that she might be…that she might be gone. But she's not. I'd know if she was, Morgan. And I can't stop looking for her. One day I'll find her."

"You've got my help now, kid."

Those six words meant more to Spencer than anything else Morgan could have said. Shuddering out a breath, Spencer smiled. "Thank you." He whispered. "Thank you."

"Of course." For a second Morgan paused, letting Spencer have a moment to compose himself. Then, in true Morgan form, he switched the topic off the serious for now and grinned widely at him. "All right. Well, serious shit later, man. Right now, tell me about this little sister I didn't know I had. What's she like? She's definitely gorgeous."

The 'little sister' comment threw Spencer but only for a moment. Then he was smiling at Morgan, shaking his head. Why was he surprised? This was Morgan he was talking to here; the man that had unceremoniously adopted him from very early on. So he wanted to know about Mikayla, did he? There were so many things Spencer could say. He leaned back in his chair, picking his mug up once more to warm his hands on. "She is beautiful." He said in response to Morgan's last statement. "She looked daintier than she really was. The top of her head fits perfectly underneath my chin."

"You're kidding." Morgan laughed out. "So she's just a little slip of a thing."

"I could wrap my hands around her waist." Smiling, memories flooding his mind, Spencer looked at the picture on the table. "She used to love to run and jump at me and I'd catch her up in my arms. With her arms around my neck, her feet wouldn't touch the ground. She'd tease me that it was amazing that someone with my innate ability to trip over my own feet could manage to catch her and never once did we fall down. I just told her it was because she barely weighed anything." With one hand he reached out, picking up the photo and pulling it close. "She had so much personality, so much fire in her. People were just drawn to her and she was always so friendly to everyone. It was her southern roots showing. Even if she didn't like a person, her Mama had raised her to show manners to everyone."

He could hear the smile in Morgan's voice when he said "She sounds like a sweet girl."

"She is." A memory pushed forward and had Spencer's face softening with a laugh. Across from him, Morgan could help but stare in amazement at him. This was like an entirely different side of his friend that he'd never seen before. He'd never seen this look in his eyes; so warm and bright and full of love as he stared at that picture. His whole expression had softened. It reminded Morgan of the way his Mama looked when she spoke of his Dad.

Setting the picture back down, Spencer let out another little laugh. "I always knew I was in trouble when we were in public or around anyone else because she'd get even sweeter toward me. She'd get so sweet it was almost overboard. That was my warning that, when we got home, I was going to be in big trouble. She wouldn't air our problems out in front of anyone else and she'd never yell at me in front of anyone but family. But when we were home alone, she had no qualms about laying it out for me. And if she was mad enough, she had no problems throwing something."

"A little firecracker inside, huh?"

"Yeah." Still smiling, Spencer took a sip off his coffee, for once letting his memories come, not bothering to restrict them. It felt good to sit here with Morgan and talk about her. To be able to tell his best friend about the most important person in his life. It felt right to introduce them, so to speak. To let Morgan get to know her, even if it was through him. He found he wanted Morgan to know her. He wanted her to be real to him. Maybe, if she were real to him, maybe Spencer wouldn't feel so alone with the memories. Maybe, just maybe, there'd be someone with him who cared enough to help carry this load.

He took another drink of his coffee as his memories rolled through his mind. "Alan, her Dad, he always said we acted more like an old married couple than most actual old married couples he knew. We had our little routines that we shared and that we never broke. Every Sunday, we'd wake up together. She'd make pancakes or French toast and we'd eat together and have our coffee and do the crossword together in the New York Times. We were always done before we finished eating. With my memory and her love for language, we knew all the words. Then I took her to church. I sat there quietly, not because I wanted to be there, but because she wanted to and I would've done anything for her." His smile grew and it almost felt as if the room around him faded. If he closed his eyes, he could see it, see her, all over again. "We'd go to her father's afterwards and spend the afternoon there because Sundays were about family and she'd make up a full Sunday dinner."

Spencer rose from his chair, going to the coffee pot to pour himself a second cup. Morgan sat quietly, just listening to his words.

"Sometimes in the evening, we'd curl up on the couch or in bed and she'd pull out a book and I'd just lie there with her, holding her in my arms, and she'd read. She loved to read out loud and I could listen to her for hours, no matter what she was saying." Pausing, Spencer looked down at the counter. "Some days I wake up and I, for just one minute I forget and I reach out for her. Then I touch the empty space and it comes back like a flood. It's like this part of me, this part that should be there, it isn't."

There was the sound of Morgan's chair being pushed back and then footsteps before a hand was on Spencer's shoulder, not turning him, simply a warm, reassuring weight. "We'll find her, kid. I'll do everything I can to help you find her and we'll bring her home."

"I hope you're right." Spencer whispered. "I hope you're right."


	3. Chapter 3

_How dare he? How dare he do this?_ Those were the first words Spencer could think. The very first thing that came to mind when he sat in that quiet cabin and read the letter Gideon had left for him. How _dare_ he? Of all people in the world, this is something he never would have expected from Gideon. Not from him. Yet there was no denying it. There was no denying what was right in front of him in black and white. Gideon was gone and all he had left behind for Spencer was this letter.

A letter.

The man who had convinced him to join the FBI. The man who had mentored him. The man who had broken past the walls that Spencer put up and managed to make himself matter. To be one of the few people in Spencer's life that he allowed to matter. The man that he had shared some of his deepest pains with.

And he had left a letter.

Spencer wanted to scream. He wanted to grab things and throw them. To break everything around him. How dare he do this? He, of all people, had to know what this would do to him. To a man whose father had left with only a letter to explain it all to his ten year old son. To a man whose wife had disappeared one day and only left a letter. Gideon had to _know_ how badly this would hurt.

It wasn't _fair_. It just wasn't _fair_. Not this. Not again. Not another person turning around and walking out of his life this way. He couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore. No, no, nonono_nono_! He didn't realize he was screaming the words. Didn't care when it hurt his ears, his own shrill voice echoing around the empty cabin. Didn't care as he grabbed the table and flipped it sideways, sending everything flying. Didn't care as he rose and his chair fell over. As his arms swept over the counters and sent things crashing to the floor.

He _hurt_, dammit! He hurt so damn much it felt like he was coming apart inside. Like he was being ripped to pieces from the inside out. How many more people were going to do this to him? How many people were going to just walk out of his life with nothing more than just a piece of paper left behind? As if that made it all okay. As if that was enough of an explanation. How many more times was he going to have to be the person that was left to deal with the loss of someone he cared about?

Spencer paid no attention to the chaos around him. Aching inside, he slipped down to his knees in the center of it all, his arms wrapping around his waist as if his arms could hold him together. They were the only anchor he had in this world right now and they weren't enough. They just weren't _enough_. _How am I supposed to do this_? He wanted to scream. _How am I supposed to keep getting back up? How am I supposed to find the strength to keep going on when everything I care about, everyone I love, keep getting taken away? Not even that – they _leave_. They always leave._

It would be one thing if any of them had died. If this was a loss that he could make sense of or understand. But they weren't. His father hadn't died – he'd just abandoned his wife and son. Mikayla – he gone, as if she'd never been a part of his life. Now Gideon. It was just too much. Just too much pain. Too much heartache. Too many times he'd been knocked down and forced to drag himself back upwards. Over and over these blows kept knocking him down and dammit, how many times was he going to have to drag himself up by his fingertips? One person could only take so much!

_Mikayla didn't leave you, though. She didn't want to leave_ his brain reminded him.

Not for the first time, that tiny little voice in the back of his mind whispered, just a little stronger than it ever had before. _Are you sure?_ It asked him. _Are you absolutely sure? What if everyone is right? What if she did leave you?_

_No! No, she didn't, I know she didn't. She would never leave me. Never_.

_Are you sure?_

Then, the hardest part of all, the thought that cut him with an edge sharper than any knife.

_What if she's already dead?_

Spencer was hunched over, bent over his knees, arms wrapping tighter. His forehead almost brushed against the floor as he bowed underneath the pain. No! He wouldn't think that about her. He just _wouldn't_. He couldn't. Because if he did, he didn't know if he could ever get up off this floor again. If he gave in to those thoughts, he didn't know if he could find the strength in him to rise off the ground. All of this was just too much. Gideon was the final piece, the catalyst, that broke down his defenses. Once again he'd trusted and once again he'd been left behind and he just didn't know if he could do this anymore. He didn't know if he could take this anymore.

Tears burned his eyes, blurring his vision. There, in the middle of the kitchen, in the quiet of the cabin that Gideon had so loved, Spencer lost the last thread of his control. The pain inside pushed its way out of him with gut wrenching sobs that shook his small frame so hard he felt it rattle his bones.

_I don't know what to do_! He couldn't speak, but his thoughts were screaming at him. _I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be; how to feel. I don't know if I can get up. I don't know if I can keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep moving on. Who am I going to lose next? Who's going to leave me next? I can't take another loss. I can't. _Then, as the grief grew, pouring from him, his thoughts changed, his pleas changing. _I don't know how to do this without you, Mikayla. You're the other part of me and I just don't know how to exist without you. A world without you in it makes no sense to me. There's no reason to things anymore. I don't know what to do and I wish you were here to help me. I wish you were here so I could hold you and feel you and know that, for just that moment, everything was okay. Everything was always better when you were in my arms. I don't know if I can keep going without you here. I don't know if I can keep going, knowing that I failed you. I should've done more. I should've been a better son and my father might have stayed. I should've been a better man and I might not have lost you. I should've protected you! I should've been a better friend and helped Gideon through this. I've done so much wrong and I'm so scared I'm going to keep doing it all wrong. I need you. I need you like I need air._

The tears poured faster, hotter, harder, coming not just from this grief, but from the grief of it all. The wound had been festering inside of him for so long and he couldn't contain it anymore. It was pouring out of him. For the first time in years and years, Spencer just let himself go. What would be left, he didn't know, but there was no stopping it now. He held himself as he cried for everyone he'd lost.

As the tears slowed and the sobs started to taper off, Spencer stayed in his kneeling position, never releasing himself. Exhaustion was starting to tug at him as his tears faded more and more. But there was something else there. Something he hadn't expected at all.

Relief.

He felt almost…purged, in a way. As if all the poison he'd been holding inside had finally been let free. The pain was still there, yes. He doubted that would ever go away. But he could breathe around it once more. He didn't feel as if he were drowning in it. He didn't feel as if he were breaking. Maybe the stitching that was holding him together was frail; maybe it would break on him one day. Something told him, however, that 'one day' was not today.

Though it had been hard, he'd survived his father leaving.

Though it had almost killed him, he was surviving Mikayla being gone.

He would survive this too.

Holding tight to that, Spencer forced his body to move, wincing at the stiffness from kneeling so long. He straightened to his feet and looked around him, looking at the mess he'd made. Maybe, at a different time, he might have regretted that outburst. Maybe. Right now, he couldn't regret it. Not when he felt better for it. Stronger.

He would survive this. No matter what, he would survive this. And not just for himself, either. He would survive for _her_. Because he still had someone out there, somewhere, that was counting on him to find her and until he did, he could never lay his burden down. He could never give in to the pain. No matter what happened. He would be strong. For her.

Shoulders squared, Spencer clutched the letter in his hand and turned his back on the chaos he'd created, walking out of the cabin a much different person than the one that had walked in.


	4. Chapter 4

**the case they're on, I made up. Not a real case on the series lol Now, I'm so glad that some of you really seem to be enjoying this. I hope you continue to do so and I hope that it lives up to what you all think. Thank you all so much for the compliments and reviews it makes me feel great and really encourages me to keep writing on it!**

* * *

It was the first time they'd had a case back in Georgia since the Tobias Hankel case. That, in and of itself, made the case feel just a little more difficult for them than normal. Their case was in a town called Thomson, a fact that made it even more difficult for Spencer. Not even twenty minutes away was another town. Warrenton. And in the town of Warrenton were people that Spencer hadn't seen in at almost two years. Not since the Hankel case, actually. He hadn't gone to see them then, either. No, they had come to see him at the hospital, before he and the team had flown home.

So many things had changed since then. Two years makes an amazing amount of difference. It was also far, far too long. But he couldn't do anything until the case was done. That had to come first, no matter what. Once that was done with, he would deal with…other things.

* * *

The case was over, the Unsub was caught, and they'd even managed to save the girl he'd taken. All in all it was a major win. Everyone was still running off of that high as they packed things back up at the station. Dave was over at the board, unhooking pictures and putting them in the box. JJ was gathering papers form the table with Emily. Morgan was on the phone doing something or other. And Aaron had been talking with the chief of police. While they did that, Spencer had found himself looking at the map, calculating time and distance in his mind, trying to figure out what he was going to do and how best to go about asking for it.

After a moment, he was startled from his thoughts by Aaron's voice right beside him. "Everything okay, Reid?"

"Yes, Sir." Spencer answered automatically. Then he realized that this was the opportunity he'd wanted and he shuffled a little and looked toward his boss, his friend. "Actually, um, I was kind of wondering…would it be all right if we maybe left a little later, or even in the morning?" He looked back up at the map once more. "I have something to take care of." Quickly he looked back over at Aaron, flustered despite himself. "Or I can take my own flight out in the morning. Really, it's not a big deal, Sir."

Before he could ramble any further, Aaron lightly put a hand on his arm, cutting him off. There was a compassionate look on his face and Spencer knew, he could see it in Aaron's eyes, that his boss understood what it was he was going to do. "We can put off the flight until no later than eight pm. Can you be ready to go by then?"

"Absolutely." He had no hesitation on that answer.

"Good. Here," After reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of keys and handed them to Spencer. "Take one of the SUV's. We'll manage with the others. Go ahead, we've got clean up here just fine."

A smile curved Spencer's lips. He curled his hand around the keys and looked at Aaron. "Thank you."

He started to make his way toward the door, ignoring the sets of eyes on him, when he noticed a particular set. Morgan was looking at him with curiosity and just a small hint of concern and Spencer felt an urge well up in him that he didn't question. Riding on impulse, he stopped and looked at a man he considered to be like an older brother. He bit the inside of his lip before finally saying "Hey, Morgan, would you, um, would you like to take a ride with me?"

The smile that curved Morgan's lips had Spencer smiling back. He looked to Aaron and got a nod before looking back at Spencer. "Sure thing, kid." After closing off his phone, he made his way over to Spencer, bumping shoulders and grinning. "Let's get this show on the road."

As the two made their way out of the door, they all heard Spencer start to say "Did you know that phrase originated back when…"

Dave lifted an eyebrow at the two as they walked away. Then he turned to look at Aaron, his expression clearly saying 'what was that about?'. Aaron just shook his head. That story wasn't his to tell. He knew that Morgan knew—the day after Spencer had told him, Morgan had come and spoke with him. But so far as the unit chief knew, the only other teammate that knew was Garcia and Aaron was not going to divulge his youngest agent's secrets like that. He wouldn't do that to anyone. So he gave Dave a look that let him know he wasn't saying anything before telling the team "Let's get this packed up. We can all rest up for the evening before we fly out at eight. I'm going to go make a few calls to make sure our flight time is changed." If Spencer was going to see who he thought he was, and Aaron was pretty sure he was right, then this was the least he could do for him.

* * *

To his credit, Morgan didn't ask where they were going. He just climbed in the passenger's seat and let Spencer drive while the two of them talked about random, inane things. However, the drive only took twenty minutes and when they were almost there, Spencer knew he had to give Morgan some kind of heads up on what they were doing and where they were going. He had no idea what had possessed him to ask Morgan along. He'd never brought anyone with him before! It had just felt like the right thing to do. Now he just had to explain it to him. "I imagine you're probably wondering where exactly it is that we're going." He said.

Morgan's lips quirked a little. "The thought had occurred to me." He teased.

Smiling, Spencer took his next turn. They were almost there. "I know it's kind of a random situation to have thrown you into and I understand completely if you're not comfortable with it. I really should've explained what you were getting into before I asked you to come with me. I'm not really sure why I did, actually. I've never asked anyone before."

"Reid, Reid." Morgan laughed out. "Take a deep breath and chill, man. Whatever this is, I'm sure it's fine."

Okay, okay, he needed to breathe in and out and calm himself down. Rambling wasn't getting him anywhere. After a few breaths, he tried again. "I'm going to visit my in-laws." The words came out in a rush. Sighing, he slowed down a little to finish the rest. "Mikayla's Mom and Grandmother live here in the old family house. I haven't seen them since, well, since the last time we were in Georgia. They came and saw me at the hospital."

"Oh." Surprise colored Morgan's words. "Wow. Okay."

Flushing, Spencer took the last turn that put him on their street. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you before I asked you…"

Morgan quickly cut him off. "No, no! It's fine, kid. Actually…I'm kind of honored. I'd like to meet them. To see the people that raised such an amazing girl."

Now that was enough to take Spencer's flush and turn it into a smile. "You don't even know Mikayla, though." He couldn't help but add.

"I know her through you. And I know any girl that managed to catch your eye this hard has got to be one hell of a woman."

Pride had Spencer sitting up just a little bit straighter. "Yeah, she is."

A moment later he was pulling up alongside the curb and turning the car off. Pulling out the keys, he looked to Morgan and found himself smiling. "I should warn you, though. Mikayla's mom is a bit…old fashioned in some things." When he saw the quick discomfort on Morgan's face, it took Spencer a second to realize why. Then he was blushing once more and hurrying to explain. "Oh! Not on things like _that_. Race is no problem in their house. No, what I meant was that she has a certain view on how men and women are supposed to be. Old fashioned southern values and such like that. Manners are extremely important. And trust me, don't ever make the mistake of taking the Lord's name in vain anywhere near either one of them." As he unbuckled his seatbelt and started to climb out of the car, he chuckled. That was a mistake he'd only made _once_.

As he got out, Spencer did the one thing he did every time he came here. He pulled out the ring that he'd made sure to take out of his bag and he slipped it onto his finger. Never once had he shown up here not wearing his wedding ring. He met Morgan on the other side of the car and, for a second, Spencer did what he did every time he came here. He took a second to simply look at the beautiful house with its large, open front porch, and he let himself envision a young Mikayla here. Even before he'd ever seen the place he'd felt like he'd known it. Countless times she'd painted a picture with her words for him over the phone, describing everything around her. The woman definitely had a way with words.

A shake of his head drew him out of his thoughts and he started his way up the little stone pathway that led to the porch. Before he'd even climbed the porch stairs the front door was opening and an elderly woman clutching tightly at her cane was stepping outside. The sight of her had Spencer smiling. She hadn't changed a bit since he'd last seen her. Dressed in a blouse and skirt, with her apron thrown over as always, and her hair pulled back into its customary braid, she looked like she hadn't changed a bit. "Spencer Reid as I live and breathe." She said in a husky southern drawl. Her arms spread wide and a smile lit the face that reminded him so strongly of Mikayla. "Bring yourself on over here and give me some love, sugar."

The smile that spread over Spencer's face carried a wealth of love to it that Morgan could easily see. The young genius strode across the porch and bent down to hug this short, frail looking woman. "It's so very good to see you, Memaw." He said as he hugged her. Just like she always did, she cupped his face as he pulled back, kissing each of his cheeks and laughing at his blush. "You look good, child. Much better than the last time I saw you."

"That shouldn't be difficult." He said teasingly. "I was in a hospital bed at the time." Taking her hands in his, he took a step back and smiled at her before raising her hands and pressing a kiss against her knuckles. "You, however, look absolutely stunning. You get more beautiful each time I see you, Memaw."

She let out a husky laugh and let go of his hand to swat at his arm. "You're just as much of a rascal as always. Glory, but you are a sight for sore eyes. I've missed seeing you." Abruptly she seemed to realize there was someone else with him. "Oh, where are my manners? You've brought someone with you this time!" Once more she smacked his arm, this time with a little more force. "Be a gentleman and introduce us, child."

Spencer ducked his head to hide his smile. It was always so easy to smile with Memaw. Just to amuse her, he executed a small bow and murmured "As milady wishes." It earned him another slap on the arm but also one of her husky laughs. As that rang around him, Spencer turned and smiled at Morgan, gesturing him forward. "Derek Morgan, I'd like to introduce you to Mikayla's grandmother. Memaw, this is my coworker and my very best friend, Derek Morgan."

When he reached them, Morgan took her offered hand, mimicking Spencer's earlier move and bending to kiss her knuckles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

With another laugh, Memaw waved a hand at him. "Posh! None of this 'ma'am' business with me, child. You've got to be like family or Spencer would never have brought you here. And any family of his is family of mine. You just call me Memaw, just like everyone else. Save the 'ma'am' for my daughter. She's the type to enjoy something like that."

That had Spencer snickering a little before he got it under control. The look Memaw gave him said he'd failed at hiding it. The woman shook her head at him before gesturing to the both of them. "Come on inside. We've got some nice iced tea in the fridge and I think this calls for a glass. Betsy Ann had to pick up a few things. We'll just wait for her out on the back porch and have ourselves a nice visit before she comes and sucks all the fun out of it."

A strangled sound came from Morgan and Spencer just grinned as they followed Memaw into the house. He probably should have warned Morgan about the differences between Betsy Ann and Memaw. Mother and daughter were as different as night and day. It was easy to see who Mikayla took after and who'd had the biggest hand in raising her and Spencer was utterly grateful for that fact. He made his way through the familiar house, taking in the pictures on the walls, the old furniture, the antiques here and there, and he sighed just a little bit. Coming here always felt so good. It always left him feeling just a little closer to Mikayla.

Once they'd got to the back of the house, Spencer put a hand on Memaw's shoulder to stop her from going to the kitchen. "I'm not a guest here, isn't that what you tell me, Memaw? So you just go ahead and take Morgan out to the porch and I'll bring the drinks out for us." He offered. If Betsy Ann had been here he never would have dared to make that offer; it would have scandalized her to have a man serving the women. But she wasn't and he knew that Memaw would appreciate the gesture.

Sure enough, she smiled and nodded at him. "You just do that. There's some fruit cut up in bowls in the fridge that Betsy Ann made up for later. You just nab that and bring it round with you, child. She can make herself another one later."

"As you wish."

He headed to the kitchen, listening as Memaw instantly started in with Morgan while leading him outside, asking him how long he'd know her 'little scamp'. His smile grew while he set about preparing the tray to take things outside, putting the glasses on it and the pitcher. Though he didn't come here anywhere near as often as he should, he loved when he could manage to come get a visit in. There was just something about being here that made everything a little bit easier for him. Granted, yes, Betsy Ann could be a bit of a handful to deal with and a bit trying on his patience at other moments. The woman was a little different. But Memaw….that woman made up for it in spades.

They'd made their first trip here not long after they'd married, him and Mikayla. She'd introduced him to her mother and Memaw, which was what she called her grandmother. She'd admitted to Spencer that she had no idea what the lady's true name was. She was just Memaw. Which, to Spencer amazement, was exactly what the lady insisted Spencer call her. To say that he'd been nervous about meeting them would have been an understatement. He'd been beyond just nervous. Not just because this was his wife's family, but because he never did well meeting new people and he had problems touching people and if Mikayla was anything to judge by, he knew these people would be extremely touchy.

It had taken not even an entire evening for Memaw to pull him out on the back porch, away from everyone else, and ask him why he kept twitching when anyone tried to touch him. Her blunt yet kind questions had disarmed him and he'd found himself answering automatically and without thought, explaining to her that he had a slight sensory problem and light touches sometimes actually hurt his skin. That he was sensitive to being touched by some things, so much so to the point of pain sometimes, and that the casual touching from people was usually so soft it actually irritated his skin more than anything else. Memaw's reaction had been nothing like what he'd expected. There'd been no mockery, no ridicule or disbelief. She'd just patted the seat beside her and told him to sit down and then proceeded to hold her hand out and tell him "Show me how hard is okay. Cause I'm a touching soul, child. I can't stop touching but I don't wanna hurt you while I do it. So show me how hard so I know and you call me on it while you're here until I learn. Us old folk, we may be slow but we're stubborn and I'll get the hang of this."

And she had. Not only that, but she'd looked out for him, taking it a step further. She'd kept Betsy Ann from touching him too much and she'd even gone to Mikayla and asked if she needed to find better linens for their bed or of if the ones they had were okay. Later that night he'd told Mikayla that he couldn't believe it and he didn't understand. People he knew didn't react this way. People just weren't that accepting. Even now, Spencer could perfectly remember the smile on her face, the way she'd laughed so sweetly before telling him "Spencer, you're family. Memaw's already called you child and 'that sweet man of yours'. Face it, you're adopted into the family now. And Memaw takes care of the family." Then, because he'd still looked stunned, she'd laughed once more and wrapped herself around him, hugging him tightly.

The sound of Memaw and Morgan laughing had Spencer pulling back to the present moment. He took the fruit from the fridge and set it on the tray as well before lifting the whole thing. It took him a second to find his balance. Man, why did he volunteer to do things like this? He hoped he'd make it out back without spilling anything. Wouldn't that be just his luck? Chewing on his lip, he concentrated extra hard as he made his way to the back porch, not even focusing on the conversation that was going on as he pushed the screen door open with his shoulder and stepped out onto the shaded back porch. Carefully me walked over to the little table that was kept out here and he set the tray down. It didn't surprise him to look up and see Morgan sitting at the table or that Memaw sat on her rocker right by him.

"Look at you, kid. Didn't drop a thing." Morgan teased him.

Spencer flushed but didn't bother denying anything. "I'm getting better." He said instead. He poured a glass and offered the first one to Memaw before offering the next to Morgan. Then he arranged the bowls of fruit on the table and set the tray to the side before taking a chair. "Tell me how you've been, Memaw. How're things going here?"

"Same as they always do, child." She said easily and with a smile. "The only thing that goes round these parts is gossip, you know that. Now, I want to hear about you. How've you been? I haven't spoken to you since Christmas."

He sipped off his iced tea and smiled at the woman who had become one of the few he loved wholly and deeply without reservation. "I've been fine. You know that Gideon left the team .We have Dave Rossi with us now and he's an amazing profiler to work with."

"He's a good guy, too." Morgan chimed in. He smirked a little at Spencer. "And he doesn't even seem to mind Reid's rambles too much."

"Of course not." The instant defense from Memaw had Spencer grinning over at Morgan. The young genius knew what was coming; he'd heard Memaw defend him and his rambles before. The woman arched an eyebrow at Morgan and told him "If you listen to the rambling you learn some mighty interesting things, young man." Love softened the woman's expression and lit her eyes. "My Mikayla, bless her heart, could get the same way sometimes when she got to talking about her books or about a new word she learned. Such a bright girl."

Morgan's expression softened at the obvious love there. "She had to be bright to keep up with the resident genius over there."

"Oh, she was. Goodness, she had such a love for words. Even as a child, if she came across a word she didn't know, she had to look it up right then and there and learn all she could about it. She loved learning new words and new things. Once a week, her and I would find one word or phrase and learn all we could. She'd tell me how to use it and the etymology behind it and everything else. Then we'd find a way to use it as often as we could all week." Rocking steadily in her chair, Memaw laughed, low and husky. "Used to drive Betsy Ann right out of her mind. She wasn't big on Mikayla working so hard to be smart. Thought she should settle down with a good man instead. Why couldn't she have both, I'd say? And look who was right. Found herself a good man and was going to school just like she always wanted."

Memaw set her tea on the little table beside her. She looked up to Spencer, making a gesture with her hand toward the house. "Grab me my knitting bag, would you, child? I've got a blanket to finish for little Dotty down the road. Her babies due any day now and I'm almost done. Might as well finish while we talk."

Amused, Spencer got up and stepped inside, grabbing the bag from where he'd known it would be, same as it always was. Then he brought it back outside. As he came out the door, Memaw was already talking to Morgan. "You should've seen the girl when she first told us about him. Glory be, she was so lit up over him. Thank you, sugar." The last she directed to Spencer as he handed her the bag. He took his seat and got comfortable, watching as Memaw easily got out her knitting needles and set herself up while still talking on.

"That girl was over the moon for him. Used to drive us crazy, waiting round the house each night for him to call. Then that phone would ring and she'd light up like the fourth of July. 'Memaw', she used to tell me. 'Memaw, that boy, he's something special. He's the one I'll marry, just you see.' And sure and she proved herself right, didn't she?"

Blushing, Spencer looked down at his lap, fiddling with his ring. It felt good to have the weight on his finger again. "She's the special one." He said softly. "I've never come across anyone quite like her."

What more might've been said was cut off by the sound of the front door opening and closing, echoing back to them. Memaw didn't even lift her head as she called out "Betsy Ann, get on back here! We've got company!"

There were footsteps and then a moment later a beautiful woman stepped out, her 'company' smile already in place, hands folded neatly in front of her. She was dressed in a long red floral skirt with a loose white blouse, her brown hair swept up in a fancy twirl on the back of her head. Betsy Ann was taller than Mikayla and Memaw, with the pretty curves that Mikayla had inherited, and the same moss green eyes. Her face was a little softer, with less angles. She was a softer, lighter version of her daughter. As soon as she stepped out the door, Spencer rose to his feet, gesturing for Morgan to do the same. Betsy Ann's eyes went right to him and her smile grew just a tiny bit warmer. "Oh, Dr. Reid! What a pleasure to see you."

"The pleasure is mine, ma'am." With the manners Mikayla had taught him, he stepped up to her and took her offered hands, leaning in to accept the kiss on the cheek. Then he stepped back and smiled at her. One of his hands rose to gesture over toward Morgan. "Mrs. Walker, allow me to introduce my friend Derek Morgan. Morgan, this is Mikayla's mother, Betsy Ann Walker."

Ever a gentleman, Morgan seemed to have no problems smoothly charming the woman as he greeted her warmly. It didn't surprise Spencer at all to see how easily Morgan spoke with the lady. What came next didn't surprise him, either. Betsy Ann looked to him and asked "Will you two be joining us for supper tonight?"

"I'm sorry, but we actually only have time for a short visit. Our team was here on a case and we're due to fly out this evening." Spencer apologized quickly. "My boss gave me enough time to come and say hello before we have to leave."

"Oh, that is a shame. But it was thoughtful of you to come and visit."

"Thoughtful, my behind." Memaw chimed in from her chair. "Betsy Ann, quit smothering the boy with manners. Derek—may I call you Derek?—come sit back down by me and finish your tea before you have to go. Spencer, you scamp, go on in the house and go back to my room. There's a blue bag in the closet that I've been meaning to send off your way. You just take it on home with you now. Betsy Ann, get this fruit on inside before it spoils out here. We're done snacking."

And with those few orders, everyone was moving in different directions. Morgan smothered a smile as he took his seat. It was apparent who was in charge of this family. When Memaw spoke, people moved, no questions asked. His eyes were twinkling as he looked at the woman who had never once stopped her knitting. They were alone on the porch now and he took a small chance, telling her "You've got everyone well trained, it looks."

"Come back often enough and I'll get you there too, my boy." Memaw returned easily. Her smile was full of laughter and good humor. "Hopefully you'll be easier than Spencer. Glory, but that boy tried my patience a time or two."

Now that _was _surprising. "He didn't listen well?" That was just hard to picture. He couldn't imagine Spencer not being mannerly.

Memaw let out another of her husky laughs. "No, no. Bless his heart, the boy listened _too_ well. I had to teach him to open that mouth of his and speak his mind. First time here he was as nervous as a rooster in the hen house. Took me a while, but I got him to open up just fine. Now he's just another of the grandbabies to me. I love that boy just as much as I love any of my other grandkids. He's a good soul." Everything about her went soft once more, this time tinged with a slight sadness. "He's never given up on Mikayla, even when the rest of us would've understood. Even after all this time, he still holds that love for her and for us. He never forgets us come holiday times, or birthdays. He's a special one."

"He is." Morgan agreed quietly. "And he's not alone in this. We're not giving up. Maybe we haven't found her yet, but we will. He's not doing it alone."

Memaw put down her needles to reach out and take Morgan's hand. "Thank you."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Spencer and Morgan were on the front porch, being handed more and more items as they tried to make their way toward the SUV. Spencer didn't bother protesting anything he was given; he knew better. Morgan tried a few times and was basically ignored. Finally they were loaded down with food for their trip home, snacks and sandwiches and even a to-go pitcher of tea. Betsy Ann hugged Spencer lightly and shook Morgan's hand. Even with their hands full, Memaw stepped right up and hugged them both tightly. She hugged Morgan first, murmuring something in his ear that Spencer couldn't catch. Then she was at Spencer and pulling him into a tight hug and he was laying his cheek on the top of her head and fighting back the tears that wanted to come.

"You take care, child." Pulling back, she reached up and pulled his face down so she could kiss his cheeks. "You take good care of yourself. And I'll keep you in my prayers."

He smiled and hugged her once more, kissing the crown of her head. "You take care too, Memaw." Lifting his eyes, he looked to Betsy Ann and smiled. "The both of you take care. I'll call you soon."

Spencer didn't protest as Morgan took the keys to the SUV. The two loaded their items in the backseat and then Spencer climbed into the passenger's seat, allowing Morgan to drive them. He watched out the window, waving at the two women until Morgan had pulled away from the curb and they were gone. Only then did Spencer close his eyes and lay his head back against his seat rest. For a few minutes the two rode in silence. It was Morgan who finally broke it. "You've got some special family there, Reid."

"I don't see them as often as I should." It was bittersweet for him to come here. To be close to anything that connected him to Mikayla always hurt even as it warmed his heart.

"I think they understand. That Memaw, she's something else."

It was just a little easier for Spencer to smile. "That she is."

Morgan cast a look over at him. "She loves you, that's for sure."

A low flush filled Spencer's cheeks. "I love her too. She's an amazing woman and she…she and Mikayla are so much alike. It's like seeing what she'll be when she's that age."

The heartache in his voice must've been obvious for Morgan to hear because he quickly sought to lighten the mood. "How're you going to explain all this food to everyone?" He teased Spencer. "They sure seemed intent on sending you off with food."

Now that did make Spencer smile. "They always do." He said with a chuckle. Then he slanted an amused look to Morgan. "And that implies that I'm sharing with anyone. I don't easily share Memaw's cookies."

With Morgan's laughter echoing in the car, Spencer smiled to himself and got comfortable once more in his seat. He'd been right to bring Morgan with him. It had been good to let his friend meet his family and his family meet his friend. Closing his eyes, Spencer sighed a little. _I love you, Mikayla_. He thought to himself. _I love you and I'm still looking. I'm still coming for you, honey._

* * *

**A/N Just to let you all know, because it amuses me, I've based Mrs. Walker and Memaw off of an actual Mother/Daughter pair I know that I'm close with and who amuse me to absolutely no end. Trust me when I tell you that the way I put them here is much nicer than they are in real life, lol.**


	5. Chapter 5

These kinds of cases were some of the hardest that Spencer had to deal with. The team was on the jet, flying toward home, and not a one of them were talking to each other. Each of them needed time to decompress from something like this. Seven women were dead. Seven women brutally tortured and sexually assaulted before being stabbed to death. Seven women before the Unsub was caught and put away. These cases always took so much out of them all.

It was just so damn hard sometimes. Not just for him, he knew, but for everyone. He knew he wasn't the only one that was hurting after this case. Unobtrusively his eyes traveled over, looking to where Aaron sat quietly in his seat, staring out the window. No, he wasn't the only one this had been hard on. Though Aaron never said anything, Spencer knew that look. He'd felt it on his own face often enough to know it when he saw it on someone else. When Spencer looked at these women, he couldn't stop himself sometimes from seeing them with Mikayla's face. He couldn't help but wonder if this was being done to her right at this very moment. Is she somewhere being hurt? Or is she somewhere safe? Is she happy? Hurting? Does she miss him? Does she even remember who he is anymore? All of that fills him as he looks at these bodies.

But Aaron…barely any time has gone past since Haley's death. This was only his _third_ case back! Spencer had seen Aaron's face when he'd looked at the bodies, at the photos, and the young genius just knew what his boss was seeing. Knew that Aaron looked at the bleeding mangled bodies and most likely he couldn't help but see Haley's body, bloody from what Foyet had done to her, lying so still on the floor. He could probably feel her all over again in his arms.

Spencer made a quick decision and rose up from his seat. He always did better himself when he focused on someone else. It was easier for him that way. Easier to push back his own pain and try to think on how to fix someone else's. Mikayla had always told him he was definitely a 'caretaker'. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop himself from trying to take care of those around him in any way that he could. Especially when he knew the things that would help.

In short order, Spencer had a warm cup of tea prepared, the cup hot without being scalding. He carried it carefully down the aisle, making sure not to spill on any of his friends. Both girls looked like they were asleep, Morgan had music on and his eyes closed, and Dave was curled up with a book. None of them were paying any attention. Good. That would make this easier. Maybe Aaron would react a little better if there weren't others watching them.

When he reached his boss, Spencer set the mug down on the table in front of the man. Aaron looked up at him with surprise. Before the older man could say anything, Spencer spoke in a low voice, trying to make sure his words didn't carry. "With a memory like mine, I have problems sometimes with the most random things acting as triggers for memories. And when I have a memory come to me, I guess you could qualify it more as a flashback for the typical person, because my memories contain all of my senses at once in sharp clarity more often than not. So I, I learned little techniques early on to help me cope." He gestured toward the tea. "Different extremes in temperature act as a good grounding point. So does the scent of the tea. It's peppermint. If you're holding the warm cup an smelling peppermint, well, it's a little easier to stay in the here and now and your brain doesn't slip toward other things so easily. I just, um, I just thought it might help."

When Aaron only stared at him, Spencer flushed slightly and started to move away, hoping that maybe his words had helped a little, if at all. He hadn't taken a single step when Aaron quietly said "Reid?"

He turned to look at him again. "Yes, Sir?"

A corner of Aaron's mouth quirked and his hands rose to circle the mug. "Thank you."

"Oh." Giving his little half grin he was known for, Spencer nodded. "Of course." Just before stepping away, he looked at Aaron's face and tried to give him one last piece of comfort. "It'll get easier, Hotch. It won't go away and that…that's a good thing. You don't want to lose that empathy. But it does get easier." With one last smile, Spencer made his way back to his seat, feeling just a little bit better himself. It felt good to help a friend; especially one who had helped him many times before.

Finally able to relax a little, Spencer curled up in his seat and closed his eyes. This time instead of harsh images, he lost himself in sweet memories.

* * *

A few hours later found the team sitting at their respective desks. Discreetly, Spencer reached a hand up to rub at his eyes, trying to take some of the ache away. He'd been staring at paperwork for too long. That dull ache was a sign he'd overtaxed his eyes. But after this last case, that was to be expected. All those journals that he'd read, all the things he'd had to pull out of them, had meant that his eyes hadn't had time to rest. Now that they were back home he had to finish off his reports, which meant more reading and writing. He'd just about had enough of it all and that was saying a lot, coming from a reading addict like him.

Apparently his friends had the same thoughts. "Man." Emily said with a hint of amusement. "You know it's bad when even Reid looks tired of reading."

"No kidding, huh?" Morgan laughed. He balled up a paper and tossed it at Spencer, where it landed right on the paper he was reading. "Take a rest, pretty boy, before your eyes fall out of your head."

Deciding that there was no point in trying to read with the ache in his eyes and his friends teasing him, Spencer gave in and sat back in his chair, his hands coming up to rub at his eyes. "You do realize it's not physically possible for my eyes to simply fall out of my head?" he said dryly. Before he could keep going, another ball of paper flew, this time hitting him in the face. He opened his eyes to glare at Morgan. "You are entirely immature, you do know that, don't you?"

Morgan tried for innocent, failing miserably. "How do you know it wasn't Prentiss?"

"Hey!" Emily cried out.

Spencer shook his head and threw the ball of paper away. "You mean aside from the fact that you already threw one paper ball at me, or that you're the only one who ever throws balls of paper?" He looked up and a little smile curved his lips. "Those points aside, Emily's much more direct. She would've thrown something a little more solid."

While the two were still laughing, Spencer looked up and happened to see Melissa, who worked downstairs, looking around the room from the entrance of the bullpen. Her eyes fell on him and suddenly she was hurrying forward. Spencer sat up straighter, eyebrows furrowing. Why was she looking for him? There was something on her face, something of shock and worry, and it had a hard knot growing in his stomach. Instinctual manners had him rising to his feet as the woman got close.

"Dr. Reid." Melissa said right as she got to him. This close, he could see her worry even more clearly. "You, um, there's someone downstairs for you. You have visitors."

Why did the knot in his stomach seem to grow harder, like a lead ball, at those words? "Why weren't they allowed upstairs?"

"They're being detained by security. The woman, she had a weapon on her." Melissa's explanation drew both Emily and Morgan out of their chairs and over toward them. "A weapon?" Morgan said with surprise. "What kind of weapon?"

"A revolver in her purse, Sir. She gave it up without any issues." The look in Melissa's eyes changed and she shifted a little as she looked back to Spencer. "Dr. Reid, she said she's…she said she's your wife."

Wife.

That one word repeated over and over in Spencer's mind. His wife. He didn't hear Emily's surprised "His _wife_?" or Morgan's low curse. All he could focus on right then was Melissa. "Did she say her name?" he croaked out. Was that his voice? It sounded so hoarse, so far away. Like it belonged to someone else.

Everything in Spencer changed when Melissa nodded and said "She said her name is Mikayla Rae Reid."

Spencer was moving before Melissa had finished speaking. Behind him, he heard Morgan saying "Go tell Hotch!" and then he was right beside Spencer. The elevator would take too long. Spencer couldn't wait for it. He ran straight to the staircase and yanked the door open, almost stumbling as he ran inside the stairwell. Later, he would regret his mad dash. Later, he knee would protest this, he knew. Right then he felt nothing. Nothing but hope and fear, twirling together and filling him so that he couldn't tell which would win. Fear that—please no—this would all end up a false alarm. A lie. Hope that it could be true. That his Mikayla was just downstairs, waiting for him.

When he hit ground level, he almost burst out the door and into the main lobby. He didn't break stride, just kept running, dodging around people and twisting past everyone that was between him and the security station. When he got there, he had to stop, had to try and yank his ID clip from his pocket to prove himself to the guard. His hands were almost shaking too much for him to manage it and he couldn't quite focus on what he was doing. His eyes were latched onto the door behind the man where people were detained, Spencer knew, when they were deemed dangerous. Just on the other side of that door and he was stuck here, fumbling in his pocket.

He felt Morgan's hands suddenly, pulling his ID up for him and showing it to the guard. Spencer started to thank his friend but then the guard was moving, opening the door and letting Spencer in and everything else fell away. Everything in his world vanished but for the woman he saw standing by the table in this little room, her arms wrapped around her waist. The first thing he thought of was that her hair was shorter than he remembered. _What a silly thing to think of_. But it was. It had used to hang to below her shoulder blades, now it just barely brushed against her shoulders. She looked thinner, too.

The sound of the door drew her attention and she turned toward it and he saw her face, a face that he saw every night in his dreams, a face that had never once left his heart these past years. Those beautiful moss green eyes, so wide and full of emotion, shining with unshed tears, were his final undoing. On legs that seemed suddenly so shaky, he took one step forward, then two, and then he was in the room and she was right in front of him and, oh God, was she really here? Was she real? Or had he finally gone insane? He lifted his hand, appalled to see how it shook. "Mikayla." Her name was said like a prayer, a salvation, so many things all rolled into one. And in return, he got the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, music that echoed in the chambers of his heart. "Oh, Spencer."

A single tear slipped out, sliding silently down her cheek, and he brushed his fingers against the smooth skin to wipe it away, feeling the heat in her cheek and it all came crashing down. Of course she was here and of course she was real and oh, she was right here, his beautiful Mikayla, and it seemed so natural, so right, to open his arms to her. She practically leapt into them, arms coming up to wrap around his neck, his going around her waist, and her feet left the ground as he hugged her close and tight and in that moment, Spencer felt like he could finally breathe. Like all these years he'd been gasping for air and now, finally, he could draw a breath again. He buried his face in her hair, not even feeling the tears that poured down his cheeks, or the tears that were soaking his collar. "Mikayla." It was all he could seem to say. It was enough.

It was like the world had stopped around them. In that moment, nothing existed for them but one another. Spencer held her close, her small frame enveloped in his arms, held so tightly and yet so gently, like something fragile and deeply treasured. There was nothing else to him that mattered at that moment; nothing that could break the spell between them. Or so he thought. Yet it was broken entirely by the sound of a soft, quiet little whimper that came, not from the woman in his arms, but from somewhere below them. He felt Mikayla react to it and he set her down, his gaze dropping downwards.

Mikayla moved from his arms, but she kept her hand wrapped around his forearm as if unable to bear completely letting go of him. Then she moved and Spencer once again felt the whole world around him come to a stop. Reaching along the edge of the table, Mikayla reached down and then lifted up….a baby carrier. Spencer stood, stunned, as she set the carrier on the table and he could see inside; see the tiny little baby lying in there, covered mostly by blankets, whimpering in a way that seemed to tug at his heartstrings. Mikayla reached in and picked up a pink pacifier that was lying on the blanket, gently coaxing it back into the infant's mouth, soothing the whimpers almost instantly.

A child. She had a child. A _baby_.

Like a fist it hit him, right in his gut. She'd been with someone else. That thought was inevitably followed by another, much more painful one.

She really had left him.

His body felt numb. Completely and utterly numb. When her hand touched his cheek, it seemed so hot and he thought to himself that he felt so cold right now. So cold and fragile, like a thin piece of ice. One wrong move and he would snap and break into thousands of tiny pieces. If he did, he feared there'd be no putting him back together once more. There would be nothing left to him but tiny shards too small to build with.

"It's not what you think." The whispered words were so soft he almost didn't hear them. They ached with emotion that he couldn't quite place. "Let me explain, Spencer. There's so much going on and I, I'm terrified and please, just please let me explain."

Could he ever deny her anything? He looked at her tear stained cheeks, at the fear and pain on her face and in her eyes, and he did the only thing he could do. He pulled her in close once more, laying his cheek on top of her head. "Of course."

* * *

**:D Was that quite what you were expecting? Please, ****R&R? **


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, I'm really nervous about this, yet I couldn't wait to get it up here. So, freshly written and proofread, here you go. Be gentle with me :/ lol This was difficult. I'm still worried I didn't get it right.**

* * *

Whisper soft, Spencer heard footsteps behind him. He lifted his face, heedless of his wet cheeks, and looked at his best friend. Behind Morgan stood Aaron. The both of them were watching him with surprise and sympathy on their faces. "Why don't you bring them upstairs, Reid?" Aaron said gently. "Things can be squared away up there where everyone can be more comfortable."

Upstairs. Yes, that was a good idea. Bring them upstairs. Spencer curled his arm more, drawing Mikayla even closer. Morgan stepped toward them, toward the baby, softly saying "Why don't I carry the little one?" and Mikayla jerked in Spencer's grip. Instantly his attention shifted to her and he sought to soothe the tension he could suddenly feel in her. "It's okay. These people, they're my friends. You can trust Morgan to, to carry her, I promise you that. He won't let anything happen."

He felt her small nod and then her arms were lifting to wrap around his waist, holding close to him while Morgan lifted the baby carrier. There was no diaper bag. That struck Spencer suddenly. There was no diaper bag. Didn't a baby need things while traveling? Didn't parents carry around a bag for the baby's things? He tucked that away in his mind as something to ask once they were upstairs. Right now he had to focus on getting his wife moving. She was wrapped so tightly to him he didn't know how he was going to get her to walk. A testing step forward had her grip tightening and it felt like her legs wobbled.

There was only one course of action that Spencer could see. He stroked a hand over her hair and bent, murmuring "Arms up, honey. Slip your arms around my neck." When she did, he adjusted the arm around her so that it was over her back and then he bent and swept her legs out from under her, pulling her up into his arms. Hers clenched around his neck briefly and then he felt her almost melt against him. Her head came down, face tucking against his neck, and she sighed as he started to move.

_She's so light_ he thought to himself. Worry was starting to push away some of his shock; shock that had come at the sight of the baby. Mikayla had said that it wasn't what he thought. His mind was already taking her disappearance and adding in the new information. The change in looks, the smaller weight—which shouldn't be after having had a baby that looked so new!—the trembling and the way she'd said she was terrified…he wasn't liking what he came up with.

In the elevator, he pulled her in closer, turning his face toward her slightly, just relishing in the feel of her in his arms. Part of him was terrified that he was dreaming and that he would wake up and it would all be gone and he would be alone in his bed once more. Yet he knew he wasn't. This was real and she was real and she was right here. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all his searching, and she'd simply walked right into the FBI on her own. He hadn't saved his angel; she'd saved herself.

No one said anything as the elevator took them up or as the doors opened and the group stepped out. Morgan and Aaron led the way into the bullpen, with Aaron holding the door so Spencer could get her through. Then they walked right past everyone, past the staring eyes, up the walkway and toward Aaron's office. Dave, Emily and JJ all fell into step behind them, something he expected but wasn't sure how he felt about. He had no idea what was going on. Was it something he really wanted his entire team to hear? Did he really want them to hear everything she had to say?

His boss was in the lead and took them straight to his office. Once in there, Morgan set the baby carrier on the floor by the couch and then stepped out of the way so that Spencer could carefully set his own bundle down on the couch. She wasn't willing to completely let go of him, though. He finally had to settle for sitting down beside her, with her tucked underneath his arm.

"We'll give you guys a moment." Aaron offered them.

Gratitude filled Spencer. First and foremost he needed to calm his wife down before he would get anything from her and all of it would go so much easier if there wasn't an audience. He looked up at Aaron and nodded, mouthing 'thank you' before looking back down at the woman huddled into him. Aaron quietly backed away, shutting his door. When he turned, the whole team was standing there, staring at him. It was Dave who suggested "Why don't we take this into my office?"

One look told Aaron that no one was going to walk away without some kind of answer. Garcia had even come and joined them all when he wasn't looking. They were a family and these people wanted, no, deserved some kind of answer. It wasn't his story to tell and Aaron knew that, yet what choice was there now? She was here and everything would come out. Best if he caught the team up. He and Morgan exchanged a look, nodding to one another in agreement, and then everyone was shuffling inside of Dave's office. Aaron wasted no time once the door was shut; something told him that he needed to catch his team up fast before something else happened. What that something else was, he didn't know, but his gut told him that it wasn't going to be good. "I'm going to lay out the basics for you guys because you all deserve to know. However, the details, you'll have to ask Reid for." He told the group. Then, taking a deep breath, he started the story. "Back when Reid first joined the BAU, Gideon and I noticed in his paperwork that he was married…"

* * *

In Aaron's office, Spencer was busy cradling his wife in his arms, saying not a word as he held her. She was trembling from head to toe and he could feel moisture on his shirt from the tears that still seemed to be flowing. He knew that he should be asking her questions; he should ask what was going on and what had happened and where she'd been and so many other things that had jumbled around in his mind over the years. However, his mouth wouldn't form a single one of them. The words wouldn't even come up his throat. Despite the situation and despite the voice in his head that told him something very serious was going on, Spencer didn't speak and he didn't move. He just held her in his arms and reveled in the feel of her against him. How could he do anything else?

She shifted against him and he felt her body moving, legs curling up, and then her head was tipping and she was looking up at him. Spencer looked down into eyes that were bright with tears and every inch of his heart melted. He knew right in that moment that even if she told him she'd left him all those years ago and that she wanted to come back how now, he'd take her in. He'd take her back in a heartbeat because, well, because she was his heart. He'd lived life without her in it. That was something he never wanted to live through again.

"I'm so sorry, Spencer."

That pained whisper made him ache. He tried to speak, to say something to take away the pain in her words, but she brought a hand up and laid two fingers over his lips, silencing him. When she was sure he was quiet, she dropped her hand back down. His eyes roamed her face, tracing each line there, each shadow that he could see. A face that was the same and yet it was different. Older. Not just in age but in spirit. Things she'd done, things done to her, things she'd witnessed, had all left their stamp on her. He wished he knew a way to take it all away and bring back the girl he'd once known. Was the same girl still in there somewhere or had too much changed?

Mikayla licked her lips in a nervous sort of way. She looked to the carrier where the baby slept on and then back up to Spencer. "I've thought for so long on what I would say to you if I ever got the chance. I planned over and over in my head the speeches I could make. But now that I'm here, they're all gone. I can't remember a thing. Silly, isn't it?" It was a question that didn't expect an answer, he knew. He just sat there and waited for her to gain her composure. It only took her a moment. Then she was saying the words she needed to and the ones he needed to hear. "I knew I had to get to you." She told him, eyes locked on his face. "I knew if I could just get to you, I'd be okay. I never wanted to leave you, Spencer; you've got to believe me. I never wanted to go."

Her words confirmed what his heart already knew, yet it was like a weight was lifted off him. In that moment he realized the little kernel of doubt that had always sat inside of him, wondering if she really had left him, wondering if maybe everyone was right. But they weren't right. He had been right this whole time. His heart had always known it; his head had been the one to doubt sometimes. Love filled Spencer even more than before and he couldn't stop himself from lifting a hand and tucking her hair behind her ear. "I know."

Surprise lit her face. "What?"

"I always knew. No one but your father believed me, but I knew you hadn't left me. I knew you wouldn't just walk away. I've been trying so hard to find you." Unspoken were the words 'where were you?' that he ached to ask. And underneath it all, that undercurrent of guilt. He _hadn't_ found her. She'd found him. Whatever had happened, she'd rescued herself. He'd failed her.

She'd always been able to read him so well. From the very beginning of their friendship, she'd known him inside and out. Even after all these years apart, that ability was apparently still there. Her hands closed over his and she squeezed in a reassuring sort of way. There was so much love in her eyes he was drowning under the weight of it all and he couldn't help but think that, if this were drowning, he never wanted to breathe again.

In a voice that only shook slightly, Mikayla started to speak, her voice wrapping around him, telling the things he needed to know and things he wished he didn't have to hear.

"I was…I was waiting for you to come home, just like I always did." She started back at the beginning, eyes closing as the story fell past her lips. "It was still too early to start the coffee, so I was tidying up a little bit. Just straightening some things, getting ready to run the vacuum. I always made sure to vacuum before you got home, because I knew how much it bothered your ears. I was just getting ready and there was a knock on the door. It was Colby. I didn't even think about letting him come in." Her hands shook and her breath shuddered. "I wish I'd never answered the door. I wish I'd never let him in."

Colby? _Colby?_ As in, their friend from school? The man who had hung out with them and taken pictures for them? The man they'd fed in their home? Invited over to hang out with them? Horror was gripping Spencer so tight he couldn't breathe. He could only sit there and stare as everything he thought he knew was yanked away from him and replaced with something far, far worse. His mouth dropped open and he could only stare at her as lines of pain appeared around her closed eyes and her lips trembled slightly with her words.

"He, he told me how he and I were meant to be together and he was going to save me from you. I told him he was crazy and he needed to leave and he pulled out a gun and told me I was coming with him, that I didn't know what I was talking about because you'd brainwashed me. I tried to talk to him, but he, he told me he had someone outside Daddy's office and he'd have him kill Daddy if I didn't cooperate. I had no choice. He…he made me sit down and write that, that awful letter. He made me write it, Spencer, I didn't mean a word, I swear it!"

He couldn't speak, afraid of how his voice would come out and afraid that anything he said would stop her from finishing this. So he settled for squeezing her hands to show her he was there and he loved her and, oh God, this all hurt so much.

"He put his gun away but kept out a phone and he told me I was going to walk calmly with him to his car or he'd make the call and Daddy would be dead. So I went with him and I got in his car. The next thing I knew, he was putting something in my arm and I went out. When I, when I woke up, we were at the cabin." For the first time since her story started, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, tears leaking from the corners to slide down her cheeks. "I've been at that cabin ever since then. He…he didn't really want to hurt me. He thought we were meant to be together. And, I didn't want to, Spencer, I didn't, but after a while I, I learned if I played along, if I was just nice, he was nice. He kept saying how we were meant to be and he loved me and that he knew I loved him. So I played his game and I lied. I'm so sorry!"

Spencer couldn't take it. He couldn't sit there while she was hurting like that. He couldn't just listen to her pain and stay quiet anymore. Letting go of her hands, he saw a quick flash of pain and fear in her eyes as if she were afraid he was going to walk away. Instead, he cupped her face, his thumbs slipping over her cheeks to wipe away her tears, mindless of his own tears that were falling once more. "You did what you had to do to survive." He told her hoarsely. "Don't ever apologize to me for that. Do you hear me? I am so proud of you for being strong enough to survive, Mikayla Rae. I am so very proud of you. There's nothing that you could do that would ever change what I feel for you."

"Don't say that." She protested. Her lips trembled even more an he could see she was fighting back sobs. "You don't know, Spencer. You don't know."

"Then tell me." He moved his thumbs again, wiping away more tears.

Breath shuddered out of her, shaking her small frame. The usual light in her eyes was dimmed. What she said next was so low he almost couldn't hear her. Almost. "I slept with him. I willingly slept with him."

Even as he screamed inside, raging against the things done to her and the man who had done them, Spencer stayed calm and gentle on the outside. This was a very important moment. He wasn't stupid, he knew that. He knew how utterly vital this was to her and that his reaction could set the scene for quite a few things as they started her healing process. He chose his words carefully and he made sure to keep his eyes on her face as he asked "Did you want to, Mikayla?

"He would've had me either way. It was on my terms this way. He didn't take it from me, I gave it to him." And for her, that was a very vital distinction. "I held him off as long as I could, but after a while I knew I didn't have a choice. I either had to give in or he'd have enough and he'd take it."

"Do you think I'm going to judge you because of this? I meant what I said, Mikayla. I'm so proud of your strength. I'm proud of the strength you showed in doing what you had to so you could survive." Smiling, he wiped away a few more tears. "Now tell me how you got here. How'd you get free?"

Mikayla stared at him as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Almost without thought she picked her story back up. "When I got pregnant, I knew he'd try to make me have her at home, but I knew I could find a way to make him take me in. He wanted a baby more than anything and he wouldn't risk anything happening. So I faked bad pains at the end and he took me in, but he wouldn't leave me alone around anyone, even though he was convinced I loved him and would never leave him. He thought he'd won. I went into labor that night. After I had her, he was so happy. I had an easy delivery, so they weren't going to keep me longer than overnight."

Turning her head from his hands, Mikayla looked down at the baby carrier. "One look at her and I was in love. My little girl. My little angel. I knew I had to do something. I couldn't let him have her. So I asked a nurse to help me to shower and, when we were alone, I told her. I told her everything. I told her that there wasn't time to call the cops and he'd kill me and the baby and anyone in the hospital that got in the way before he'd let us go. And we built a plan. I didn't trust the police around there. He bragged all the time that he had them in his pocket and I never left the cabin so I didn't know. The nurse, Shelly, she got me dressed and back in the room and she got someone to help her get him out of the room. Then she and a few nurses smuggled us out of the hospital. They gave us a baby carrier from the hospital and a few diapers and clothes for her. Shelly's husband came and gave me the handgun and some money an took me to the train station and stuck me on a train here. When I got to Alexandria, I caught a bus the rest of the way here."

Holy shit. Spencer felt his eyes go wide. He opened his mouth to speak—to say what, he had no idea, because what the hell did one say to something like this?—but they were interrupted once more by a whimper. This time the whimper progressed, building into a cry that had them both reacting. Spencer let go of Mikayla and she moved quickly, reaching down into the baby carrier and undoing the straps. Then she was lifting the little bundle inside, pulling the child up into her arms and shushing her gently, cradling her close to her chest. As the baby whimpered on, making pitiful little cries, Mikayla looked up at Spencer once more and the love was back in her eyes. "I took the paperwork with me, so all I need to do is finish filling it out and filing it. I filled it out as Mikayla Reid and I…I left the father slot open for…for you. I mean, I know she's not yours and I know you, you might have a hard time seeing her…"

The little girl let out a cry that gripped Spencer's heart. "She's a part of you. How could I see her as anything but a blessing?" The words came from deep inside, feeling so very right. This child was the child of his wife. Who else had a hand in making her didn't matter to him. She was a part of Mikayla and therefore, he could do nothing but love her. To hate her, he'd have to hate Mikayla, and that was something that would never happen.

"It doesn't bother you, who her father is?"

That question was easy to answer. "Donating sperm doesn't make one a parent. Parents are the ones who raise the children and love them, not the ones who sire them. Mom always told me that being a parent is a privilege, not a right." Though he was afraid, oh yes he was afraid of this small little child, he lifted a hand and stroked a finger over the soft, smooth skin of her cheek. She turned toward his finger, mouth seeking as if to nurse, and her eyes fluttered open to show eyes such a dark green they were almost brown, with little dark brown curls on her head, and Spencer made the tumble right then and there. His voice was hoarse with emotion as he said "I would be honored at the privilege of being her father."

Mikayla sucked in a breath, a smile trembling on her lips. She shifted in her seat and turned toward him. "Then why don't you hold your daughter, Daddy?"

Daddy. In one day he had gone from being alone to having his wife back and becoming a Daddy. It was so much to take in and he just didn't know what to do. In the end he did the only thing he could do. He lifted his arms and took the tiny little girl into his arms, letting Mikayla adjust the little pink blanket so that she stayed nice and swaddled and he marveled at the life he was holding. "She's beautiful."

Mikayla leaned in against his arm, her head going to his shoulder, and she reached up to adjust the blanket. "She was 7 pounds even when she was born and nineteen point five inches." Tucking closer against her husband, Mikayla whispered "Spencer, meet Amelia Jane Reid. Amelia, meet your Daddy."

There was no stopping the tears from slipping from Spencer's eyes. Amelia Jane. She'd name their daughter Amelia Jane. Long ago, that was one of the names they'd discussed when they'd spoken of children in their future. It was a pretty name as well as being a strong one. That she had used a name they'd picked, one that they'd come up with together, seemed to make this even more real and make her even more his. Spencer watched this little girl, his daughter, as she lay in the crook of his arm, so tiny and beautiful. There on the couch in Aaron's office, with his wife at his side and his daughter in his arms, Spencer felt himself find just a little moment of peace in his heart and the first bit of healing began. His wife was home; everything else could be figured out from here. All that mattered to him was that she was home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Now apparently my last chapter brought up a lot of controversy which was not at all something I intended. To some the chapter was AU, to others it was BS, to others it was good. I know that a lot of you seem to have this problem with Reid 'easily accepting' the little baby and, well, I guess I should've put this on the last chapter instead of making it its own, but I'd already planned this part out. Maybe if I'd posted it with the last one then a few of you would've found the last one more believable. In this one I'll go a little more in depth on his thoughts in this chapter and I hope it helps it make sense for everyone else. If not and if you find you're not liking this story, well, I won't be offended if you don't want to read on. I really won't. **

**Okay, done rambling. Here you go.**

* * *

When Spencer's head cleared a little bit and he was able to pull out of his thoughts, he looked automatically down to Mikayla. After everything he'd heard it didn't surprise him that she was asleep. The little bundle in his arms was asleep as well. He shifted a little, twisting just right, and very carefully he moved so that, as he slid sideways, Mikayla gradually laid down. By the time he rose of the couch, she was laid out perfectly. Spencer tried to lay down the little bundle in his arms, to tuck her back into her carrier, but she started to move and fuss and the last thing he wanted was to wake Mikayla up, so he resigned himself to holding the baby. Right now, though, he needed to take care of something and while Mikayla was asleep was the best time possible.

He stood for just a minute, swaying awkwardly in an imitation of what he'd seen JJ or Will do when Henry was little, trying to think things through enough to figure out what needed to be done next. His brain was still reeling, half of him was still in shock, and right now he needed to think clearer than ever. Her story was running through his mind on a loop, his brain logging away the facts and trying to think of what the next step should be. Yet he couldn't seem to move from the current moment to the next. All he could think at first was _Colby. I can't believe it was Colby! He was our _friend_._ And, in the back of his mind, Spencer couldn't help that traitorous little thought, one that made his stomach slick with shame, yet even that shame couldn't take it away. _Is she telling the truth_?

He didn't want to think that about her. He _refused_ to think that about her. Yet that didn't make that little thought go away. If anything, denying it made it stronger. As he stood and held this small child and looked at the woman sleeping on the couch, the little thought grew. _Look at her_ his mind told him._ Does she look hurt? Does she look like she's been mistreated? She's thin, yes. Too thin for having just given birth such a short time ago. But she doesn't hold the gaunt look most long-term victims hold. She doesn't react like any long-term victim you've seen, either. Most wouldn't have touched even their spouse. Most wouldn't have been able to handle it. Yet she not only touched you, she curled up against you. Let you hold her._

On the tail of that came more poisonous thoughts, ones he didn't want to have and couldn't fight away. _And what about this child you hold? Are you really going to be able to look at her and put away the thought that Colby is her father? Not even some nameless Unsub that you can hate. No, this is someone you _knew_. Someone you _trusted_. He was your friend and he took your wife, your very life, away from you. Can you look at these two now and actually commit yourself to raising a child that isn't even yours? She openly admitted that she went to his bed willingly._

No! There was a huge difference between wanting to have sex with someone because you loved them and wanting to have sex with them because it was the only way to avoid rape. No, absolutely no, he would not judge her for that. He _refused_ to judge her for that.

Round and round all these thoughts went until he felt like he was going to be sick from it. He needed some air. He needed to breathe. With hands that were staring to shake, Spencer managed to get Amelia down into the baby carrier without waking mother or child. Once the straps were on to hold her in place, he made sure she was in easy reach of Mikayla. Then he indulged himself by pressing a light kiss against Mikayla's hair.

When he opened the door to Aaron's office, the team was back outside once more, watching him and waiting quietly. As much as he wanted to speak to them, he didn't know if he could. He took a deep breath, trying to open his mouth to say something, say anything, but no words came. This was too much. Too many things to process and too many feelings and just…too…much! Before he shamed himself in front of his team, in front of everyone watching him from the bullpen, in front of everyone, he had to get the hell out of here. He had to get away for just a minute. Just long enough to put his brain in order and find the ability to breathe once more.

Someone took his arm—was that Morgan? He thought it was Morgan—and he was steered into a quiet room where the door was shut. The hand steered him to a chair and made him sit down. Then, with perfect timing, something was shoved into Spencer's hands and a part of him dimly realized that it was a garbage can and it was perfect timing because everything he'd eaten was rising once more. Bending double, Spencer felt his stomach empty itself into the can in his hands. All the while a hand stroked over his back, there for him without overwhelming him, soothing him as he rode out the nausea. And when it was done, that hand moved, taking the garbage away. Spencer didn't care. He dropped his head down between his knees and tried to breathe past the panic attack he could feel licking at the edges of his mind. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be this way! When she came home, everything was supposed to somehow find a way to be okay again. Nothing about this was okay. Nothing about this was right.

"Talk to me, kid." Morgan murmured from beside him. He was squatting beside the chair, his hand back on Spencer's back, his other hand holding out a tissue that Spencer took and used to wipe his mouth. "Talk to me."

"Everything's a mess." The words slipped out without thought. Spencer lifted just enough to rest his arms on his thighs. His head stayed bowed down and his eyes closed. In short, concise terms, he summed up what Mikayla had said. When he was done, his stomach was clenching again. Because this was Morgan, he felt safe enough to open up. Because it was Morgan, he knew he could say what he felt inside and not have to worry about being judged for it. "I wasn't lying to her when I told her that I can't hate something that's a part of her. I just can't. That little girl, she's so beautiful, Morgan. She has her Mama's eyes and I just find myself falling in love with her looking into her eyes. But at the same time there's a voice in the back of my head that says, dammit, she's not mine."

"That's an understandable response, Reid. No one's going to judge you for it. Despite the circumstances, you're going to hurt because your wife had a baby with another man. It's normal. No one expects you to just step up and play daddy and just be okay with everything."

How could he make Morgan understand? How could he make Morgan see what he was feeling inside? "It's not that I can't step up, Morgan. I can and I will. Like I told Mikayla, a father is more than a sperm donation. I'll feel privileged to have that little girl call me her Daddy." He ran his hands over his face, trying to make his head clear. "I'm not going to make a child suffer for the crimes of their parent. She didn't choose to be made this way. She didn't choose to be born to these circumstances. I can't make her suffer for something she had no control over. I just...she was supposed to be mine. Ours. And I look at her and I can't help but think that. It doesn't make me hate her or Mikayla. It just, hurts. It hurts inside. She was supposed to be mine."

"Ah, kid." They were the only words Morgan said. His hand slid up Spencer's back, settling on the back of his neck in a comforting grasp, not holding him there but simply supporting him. There was nothing he could say and he knew that. There was nothing that could be said to make this better right now. He knew it and Spencer knew it. For just that moment, the two stayed quiet, one giving strength and one taking it. They both knew he'd need it for whatever else was going to come when he stepped out of this room. Here, for now, with the support of the man who was like a brother to him, Spencer allowed himself to just sit for a bit and try to pull himself back together.


	8. Chapter 8

**Just to let you guys know, it may take me a day or so to get back into the quick updates with this story. I woke up this morning with a yucky head cold and, well, it's a little hard to sit and write when your face aches with sinus pressure and you're sneezing constantly :P Hopefully I'll get back on track quickly, but if it takes me a day or so, that's why. Just wanted to give you all a heads up!**

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By the time Spencer and Morgan emerged from what Spencer had come to realize was Dave's office, the young genius had control of himself once more. Enough so that his brain was actually capable of thinking of what needed to be done to take the next step. Emily, JJ, Dave and Aaron were all standing by the door of Aaron's office, waiting quietly for him. Spencer's eyes instinctively went toward the office door. His question must've been obvious on his face because Dave suddenly said "They're both still asleep. Garcia's sitting in there with them right now."

Oh, good. He wasn't sure how she'd react, waking up alone in there. Then again she might not react well to waking up with someone in there either. Out of all their choices, Garcia had been a good pick. Female, for one. That would keep Mikayla at ease. Also, Garcia was kind, perceptive, and very friendly. He had no doubt she'd keep Mikayla calm if she woke. All of this gave him a moment to start the ball rolling for what he knew needed to be done. He and Morgan gestured to the team and brought them into the conference room, granting them a little bit of privacy.

Without wasting time, Spencer looked to his friends and said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you all sooner." Clasping his hands, he rubbed at his knuckles in a nervous gesture. "I really am, guys."

Dave raised a hand to cut him off. "Let's worry about that later. Catch us up on what's going on now, kiddo. The rest can wait until the most important parts are taken care of."

A sigh of relief slid past Spencer's lips. He'd been half afraid that JJ, Emily and Dave would be furious with him for keeping this and some part of him hadn't been able to help but be afraid that they'd refuse to help him right when he needed them the most. And need them he did right now. All of them. Spencer took a deep breath and made himself grab on to the calm that he'd found in Dave's office. Right now he had to keep that close. He had to be strong right now; Mikayla needed him to be. That had him straightening his spine and he found his voice, relating Mikayla's story for the second time.

Almost as soon as he was done talking, JJ said "If he used family as a threat before to get her to go it'd be reasonable that he'd do the same this time. Does she have any family around? Is her father still alive?"

Color drained out of Spencer's face. "Her father's still the President at Caltech. Then there's her mother and Memaw. They live in Warrenton, Georgia."

"Then first priority is getting protection set up." Aaron told them all. "JJ, get on phone and contact the local field offices for both locations and get agents over to each of their houses immediately. We want to remove any option of a threat for him to use. Reid, she'll need their names and addresses."

Spencer was already moving to the table and grabbing a notepad and pen. He quickly scrawled out their names and addresses before ripping the paper off and handing it to JJ. "I should call them." How could he not have thought of calling them? How hadn't he thought of them potentially being hostages? Of course Colby was going to come back for her and it made sense that he would use something that had worked for him before. Anyone who knew Mikayla knew that family was the most important thing in her life. She would do anything to protect them.

"Reid." Aaron's voice snapped Spencer back to the present moment. The young profiler blinked a few times before focusing back on his boss. Aaron nodded when he saw he had Spencer's attention. "Let JJ handle the notifications. You, Morgan and Prentiss are going to head to the hospital. The two of them will stay with you at all times. Officially, you can't actually be on this case, so any questions asked and answered, you can't do." At the sight of Spencer starting to protest, Aaron shook his head. "It's regulations, Reid, you know that. I can't bend this. You guys go to the hospital, get them checked out. Dave and I will stay here and handle things in house. As soon as you know anything, let us know and we'll see about establishing a safe house for you and your family to go to. Until we have this Colby in custody, I'm putting you all under our protective custody."

Though he didn't like it, he understood why Aaron had to take him off the case. There was nothing he was going to be able to do about it. And not working it didn't mean that they wouldn't keep him in the loop. Plus, on a positive note, it allowed him to fully focus on Mikayla and helping her and keeping her safe. And…and Amelia. Which reminded him… "She uh, she doesn't have anything for the, the baby." He told them. "Is there any way someone could pick us up a few items? All she has is all they came with."

Dave was the one to nod at him. "I'm sure JJ wouldn't mind making a store run for you when she's done."

Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet so that he could grab his single credit card. He held it out toward Dave and told him "JJ knows the code. Tell her to get what's necessary and thank her for me, would you?"

"No problem." Smiling, Dave took the card and put it in his pocket.

Okay. Okay. Spencer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Everything else was being taken care of. All that he had to do was take care of Mikayla and Amelia. That was all that was required of him right now. The rest was in the hands of his team. As much as it galled him to pass of anything, at least he knew it was in capable hands. Later, when he knew his family was okay, maybe then he would protest his lack of ability to help. Maybe then he'd find a way to persuade them to let him help. Later. For now, he looked around at his friends and nodded once, emotion choking his throat. It was the best thank you that he could give them right then and from the looks they gave him back, it was enough. Silent, Spencer left the room, making his way back to Aaron's office.

He found Mikayla still asleep and Amelia out as well. Garcia was just sitting nearby, a book in her hands, keeping an eye on the two. When the door opened and Spencer walked in, her eyes darted right up to him. In an instant she was up from her chair and heading straight to him. Spencer braced himself as best as he could for what he knew was coming. Garcia wrapped him in a brief, tight hug, sighing a little as she did. He knew he didn't have to worry about her being upset with him—she was one of the people that had known—but it still surprised him when she pulled back and looked at him and quietly asked "What do you need me to do, Reid? What's the plan?"

She was so calm, so accepting. Just like that she was willing to do whatever he asked her to. That was just the type of friend that Garcia was and it never failed to amaze him. She never failed to amaze him. Having her as a friend, on your side, a person couldn't go wrong. "Hotch is passing out orders. I'm officially off the case."

"Whoever did this, we'll get them, sugar pea. Don't you worry your genius brain about it." She vowed.

The 'sugar pea' had him wincing even as he smiled. Only Garcia could get away with talking to someone like that.

Spencer was shaking his head as he stepped away from Garcia and made his way to the couch. He managed to get down on one knee, only wincing a little bit. Man. His knee was definitely starting to let him know that he'd worked it a little too hard. He was barely off his cane; running down flights of stairs hadn't been the smartest move he'd ever made. For now he ignored it, promising himself he'd take something later. Right now he focused on the woman still asleep on the couch. He had to resist reaching out to touch her, to push some of that silky hair behind her ear or stroke a hand over her cheek. Whatever had made her comfortable around him before, shock, adrenaline, whatever it was that had allowed her not to be scared of his touch, he wasn't going to count on it lasting. He'd worked around too many victims—and oh how he _hated _thinking of her in those terms—to think that she would continue to be okay. Reality was going to set in soon and he knew it would most likely hit her hard.

"Mikayla." He said her name low and soft. "Honey, I need you to wake up for me." It took a little bit of gentle murmuring for her to start to open her eyes and blink up at him. Spencer couldn't help but smile and think to himself that some things hadn't changed; she never had woken quickly. At one point in time, he'd enjoyed waking her slowly, taking his time and enjoying himself, thrilling in the way she'd come to life little by little under his words, his touch. Many mornings he'd woken her that way. Now, now he ached a little with those thoughts, pushing them back so that he could focus on the here and now. "That's it. There you are. Hey, sleepy."

He saw how her eyes locked on him and the quick flash of disorientation and fear that hit, saw the way her body tensed in preparation to jerk back, and then he saw the recognition hit and some of the tension drained from her. "Spencer."

"I know you're tired, but I need you to get up for just a bit." Now that she was awake he dared to reach out and brush back a strand of hair from her face. Her eyes watched his hand but she didn't flinch. Spencer smiled at that. That was a positive thing. That was good. "We need to take you and Amelia in to get you guys checked out, okay? Just to make sure the two of you are doing well."

The fear came back to her eyes and she tensed once more. "What about Colby?" She whispered hoarsely.

Inside, Spencer hurt. It was beyond an ache. It was a full on _hurt_. He'd never thought to see his strong little spitfire reduced to this scared little girl that was lying in front of him now. She had always been so strong and sure and to see her this scared made Spencer want to go out and rip apart the man that had done this to her. _What did he do to you_? He wanted to ask. _How could he hurt you like this? How dare he?_ He let none of that show on the outside. It did, however, make his voice even more gentle, his love for her able to be heard in every word. "My team's working on finding him. And until he's found, I am not letting you out of my sight, do you hear me?" He may have failed to protect her last time but he wouldn't this time. Just to make her smile, he dropped a hand down to his hip, letting it rest on his gun. "And if he shows up, I'll shoot him."

That had the desired effect. Her lips quirked slightly and her eyes shone a little as they flickered down to his gun and back up to his face. "They let you carry a gun? You?"

"I passed my qualification, I'll have you know." He pushed up from his squat as she sat up, fighting not to rub at his aching knee as he did. To keep the good mood going, he smiled at her while holding out a hand to help her up. If it kept her smiling at him, he'd sacrifice a little pride and let himself be the butt of a few jokes. Anything to keep that fear from her face.

Mikayla put her hand in his and rose carefully to her feet. When she got there, she didn't let go as he had thought she would. No, she left her small hand in his, even taking a step so that she was closer to him despite that he felt her tremble a little. _The adrenaline has worn off _he realized. _Reality is setting in and with it, the fear. Even of me. Yet she's not stepping away from me._ In this, he would take his cues from her, letting her set the boundaries for what was comfortable and what wasn't. He would not push her, nor would he push her away. This would be on her terms. It was the only way he could see for them to get through this.

Before they went anywhere there was one thing he wanted, needed, to do. He looked to the door where his friends waited and he gestured them forward. Then he looked down at the woman that had taken another step closer to his side. He wanted to make sure she understood what was going on and make the necessary introductions before they left anywhere. "Until everything is settled, we're going to have protection assigned to us. These two are part of the team I'm on here and I promise you, they'll do everything they can to keep us safe. I trust the both of them with my life and I have, many times over." He reassured her quietly. In a normal voice, he made the introductions. "Mikayla, I'd like you to meet my friends, Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan."

The two agents gave Mikayla warm smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Emily said politely. Beside her, Morgan grinned and said "It's an honor to finally meet the woman that managed to try and tame our resident genius here."

At the word 'tame', Spencer scowled at him. His scowl melted away at the quiet little chuckle Mikayla gave. That sound was like music to his ears. Ever mannerly, Mikayla smiled back at both of them, her only outward sign of nerves betrayed by the way her hand tightened in his a little. "It's a pleasure to meet the two of you as well. I look forward to getting to know the people who've been close with Spencer these past years."

That was really all the time he was willing to spare for pleasantries. Right now, his main concern was getting these two into the hospital and looked at so that he could know they were both okay. With his free hand, Spencer reached over and took hold of the baby seat, lifting it and bringing it to his side. It left him without a hand to draw his gun with and that was going to be a difficult sensation; he would have to trust to Morgan and Emily as they left the Bureau. "Are you ready for this?" He asked Mikayla quietly. Her hand quivered in his and he gave it a gentle squeeze. "Remember, I'm right here with you."

"I'm ready."

Lifting his head, he looked to his friends and nodded. "Then let's go."


	9. Chapter 9

**It's not much, but I'm still feeling pretty yuck, so you get a chapter, just not a big one :)**

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It was still strange for Mikayla to be back out in public once more. Even though she'd been in the hospital to have Amelia, and even though she'd ridden thirteen hours on a train to get here to Spencer, she just wasn't used to being around this many people anymore. The instances she'd been out in public since Colby had taken her had been few and far between. She could count them on one hand. Because of that and because of the nerves it brought, she was almost silent the whole ride in the car to the hospital. Just the idea of going into the hospital was enough to set her stomach quivering. She kept herself as close as possible to both Spencer and Amelia. Amelia, because she needed to be by her, to keep her safe. Spencer, because he would keep them safe.

Half of her wanted to quiver each time he touched her. Not out of fear, like others might think. No, she wasn't afraid of Spencer. How on earth could she be afraid of him? Thoughts of him were the only thing that had kept her going, kept her sane, through…through everything. Memories of him had been her salvation. They had gotten her through the pain, the long nights, the moments that she didn't want to think about now. There was no one in her life she loved or trusted more than him and she knew, with every fiber of her being, she knew he would never do anything to hurt him.

As the car moved down the road, she snuck a glance at his face through a screen of her hair, unable to stop from looking at him. No, she didn't shake because she was afraid of him. She shook because it didn't seem fair or right for her to touch him. Not after the things she'd done; things she'd let be done to her. Things she'd allowed Colby to do just to stop him from hurting her. What right did she have to touch this man, so pure and clean, with the filth that she knew was on her hands now? No matter the circumstances, she had cheated on him. Forced to or not didn't matter. She had been with another man. Had another man's _child_. What rights at all did she have with this wonderful man now?

Yet at the same time, she was selfish. Utterly, completely selfish. Why? Because she couldn't bring herself to step away from him. She'd gotten away and the first place she'd gone was the FBI, praying that he'd gone to work there just as he'd always planned on. She'd gone to him and, despite the fact that he had every right to turn her away, he hadn't. Quite the opposite. He'd embraced her, holding her so gently and so lovingly it had brought on the tears she'd been fighting ever since she'd started running. In his arms, she'd finally felt _safe_. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to climb back into his arms and hide there from the world until everything was normal and made sense once more. She wanted him to hold her until she couldn't feel Colby's hands on her anymore, touching her, hurting her.

A quiver ran down her and she unconsciously scooted closer to Spencer's heat. He immediately lifted an arm, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid of scaring her. Her heart ached at that. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't scared of him. _How can I be? You never did anything to hurt me. But look what I've done. Look at how you've hurt because of me._ Yet again, her selfishness showed through. She slid underneath that arm and let him hold her close against his side and she relished in the contact.

Her brain couldn't help but log away the differences from the young man she'd married to the man he was now. His body was more solid than it had been. Oh, not by much. He was still far, far too slender. In fact, it looked like he weighed the same as he had back then. No, what was different was the muscle. There was definitely more muscle corded over that thin frame now. His face had changed with age, too. There were lines there, small ones, that hadn't been there before. The differences may have been little but they brought home to her how much had changed.

_Things are still the same, too_ she reminded herself. And it comforted her to think of those little things. In fact, there was more that had stayed the same than had changed. He still dressed like a college professor, a look that she adored on him. No one she had ever known had been able to pull off the sweaters and vests and slacks the way he did. He still carried around the same old messenger bag she'd gotten him for his birthday when he was seventeen. There was an aged look in his eyes now, yes, but they still held that light she remembered in them. That old light that told her without a single word exactly how much he loved her. His heart was in his eyes as it always had been. His smile still held that crooked edge to it. When he'd smiled at her in that office, it had been the same as she remembered. A slow, nervous start, unfurling into something that warmed her straight down to her toes.

On her other side, Mikayla heard Amelia start to make a sound and she felt the answering call in her body. She was hungry. While still staying curled to Spencer, she lifted her hand and reached into the car seat, lightly smoothing back Amelia's hair, hoping to soothe her down until they got to a place where she could feed her. She was such a beautiful baby and there was no denying the love Mikayla felt. She loved her daughter stronger than she'd ever loved another person before, save Spencer. Even then, it wasn't stronger or weaker than that, just different.

The movement of the car slowed and Mikayla looked up, realizing that they had arrived at their destination. They were here and now, now the doctors were going to want to look at her. To touch her. She would be in the open and exposed here. No, no, she would not panic. Spencer had said he wasn't going to let her out of his sight. He would protect her, as would the two agents with them. His friends. If he trusted them, then she would trust them. She had to. These people were her only hope. The only defense between her and Colby and she couldn't let him take her again. She couldn't go back to that life. Not again. Not ever again.

A soft kiss was pressed to the crown of her head and she heard Spencer's low murmur, felt his lips move against her hair. "We're here, honey."

It was almost funny, the way the two agents actually stood guard while she got from the car and while Spencer grabbed the baby seat. She watched her husband carefully hold the baby seta close, checking Amelia before being satisfied. Then he reached out and Mikayla easily tucked herself in against him once more, her arm going around his waist and his around her shoulders. Was there anything that felt better, safer, than being here? She could shut out the world around her as they walked, forgetting everything and everyone but the man who held her. She stayed against him as they went inside and as they were checked in, even. But then he was guiding her to a chair and helping her to sit and she panicked a little, looking up at him, only relaxing when he took the chair beside her. Oh. He had a clipboard in his hands; he must be checking her in. She was about to tell him that she'd fill it out when Amelia finally decided enough was enough and started to cry.

In a move that was quickly becoming practiced, she reached down to the seat at her feet and unhooked her little girl. Then she lifted her, blanket and all, and adjusted her in her arms. With the blanket draped just right, it sheltered her stomach as she lifted the hem of her shirt. In short order she had Amelia latched on and was sitting back to get a little more comfortable, adjusting her shirt and the blanket to make doubly sure that she wasn't visible to anyone else. That was when she realized that she was being watched. Spencer had stopped in his writing to look at her with those expressive eyes of his, looking so shy and slightly awed all at the same time. Realizing he'd been caught, he gave her a little smile. "You seem so natural with her."

"I feel awkward." It didn't seem so bad to admit that to him. To someone else, yes, but not to him. He wouldn't judge her. "I've been around other peoples babies, but it's so…different. I keep feeling like I'm, I'm doing something wrong."

"Don't be ridiculous. You'll do fantastic with her. She's lucky to have you as a mother."

The easy confidence with which he said that warmed her down inside. She looked back down, watching Amelia's face as she nursed, her small body curled against her so trustingly. It was an amazing feeling to look at this child and to think that she was hers. That this tiny little soul was her daughter. She would look up to her for safety and protection and guidance. Before Amelia's birth, Mikayla's life had become about survival. About doing what was necessary to keep herself alive and to get through the next minute, next hour, next day. Now, now she had not just herself to think of and not just Spencer either. She had this little wonder that she was responsible for.

For a few they sat quietly, Spencer filling out his paperwork, Mikayla nursing, and Morgan and Emily sitting quietly at attention. Just as Mikayla was putting her shirt down and lifting Amelia to her shoulder to burp her, a nurse came over, smiling kindly at them. "Mikayla Reid?" She asked her.

The whole group of them rose. It would have been funny at a different time, the way the nurse raised her eyebrows at them all as if silently asking if they all were really coming. She didn't stop them, however. She just gestured with one hand and said "This way, please."

One of the agents—her name was Emily, she needed to remember that. Emily Prentiss and the other was Derek Morgan—grabbed the baby carrier for her. Spencer moved to her side, his hand going to the small of her back in their old way, a silent support to her. It was his way of letting her know that he was here with her. It was enough to have her relaxing just slightly. Then the nurse led them into an exam room and all of Mikayla's calm went away when she said "I'll have to ask the rest of you to step outside, please. Ma'am, if you'll come over here we'll get you dressed down to the gown before the doctor gets here."

The fear hit like a fist wrapping around her heart, squeezing the breath out of her. Alone? They wanted her to do this alone? Her breathing hitched and her eyes grew wide. She turned to look toward Spencer, not caring about pride. She'd beg him to stay if she had to. _Please, please, don't leave me alone. Don't let me be alone here. Don't let me be alone!_ Before she could plead, Spencer was speaking, bypassing the nurse entirely to look at the two agents. "Would you two mind standing outside the door? I'll let you know when it's clear to come back in."

"Sure thing." Emily set down the baby carrier by the exam table, smiling reassuringly at them. Morgan started to move, but stopped right by them, looking at Mikayla. He was a kind looking man, she thought. Warm eyes and a friendly face. His smile was kind, too. "Would you guys like us to take little bit for you? She looks like she's about sound out there." He said with a gesture toward Amelia.

First instinct was to protest—she didn't want Amelia out of her sight!—but the practical side of her knew it would be easier to dress and such with her hands free and Spencer obviously trusted these people. Right? She tipped her head toward Spencer again, her eyes asking the question. When he nodded, she took a deep breath and looked to Morgan. "Thank you." She said. Her arms shifted, pulling the mostly asleep girl off her shoulder. Amelia easily made the transfer, fussing just slightly as she settled into Morgan's arms. The big man startled her when he made soft little sounds at Amelia, murmuring "Shush now, little bit. Uncle Derek's got you, that's all. Your Mama and Daddy just need a minute."

Emily's grin grew a little. "Come on, _Uncle Derek_." She teased him. Her twinkling eyes moved to the couple. "We'll be right outside the door."

The nurse was watching them all with bemusement. When the door shut, she turned toward Spencer. "I assume you're not leaving?" she asked with dry humor.

"No, ma'am." Spencer said simply. His hand still rested in the small of Mikayla's back. She leaned back into that touch, grateful that he understood, that he wouldn't leave her in here.

"All right then. Mrs. Reid, let's get your vitals and then we'll get you ready for the doctor."

With Spencer's help, Mikayla got up onto the table. He stood beside her, watching her carefully. "Would you like me to sit in the chairs? Or step out with Morgan and Emily?" He offered quietly. Mikayla felt her eyes go wide once more even as she quickly shook her head. "Please, stay. Please?" She hated how weak she sounded but she couldn't stop it. She didn't want to be alone, didn't want to have to have people touching her and talking to her without him there, and a part of her was terrified to let him out of her sight. The last time she'd seen him she'd kissed him goodbye and then she'd been taken before he ever came home.

"I'm not going anywhere." He reached out and took her hand in his. With his other hand he took off his messenger bag, setting it down in a chair. She noticed that he still wore his gun, even here in the hospital. How had he managed to get away with that?

With his hand holding hers, Mikayla took a deep breath and looked toward the nurse, nodding lightly to let her know she was ready.

* * *

Out in the hallway, Morgan was busy smiling down at the little girl in his arms. She sure was a cute little thing. She'd fallen asleep quickly once she'd settled against him. She was so…tiny. So absolutely tiny. He remembered holding Henry and he remembered when Jack was little, but neither one of them had seemed this absolutely tiny. He lifted one hand, adjusting the blankets around her, making sure she was comfortable. A sudden click drew his eyes up and he found Emily standing with her cell phone pointed at him, grinning away. "Oh man, PG is gonna love this." She said gleefully.

He shook his head at her. "What is it with women and seeing a man with a baby?"

"There's just something about seeing a tough guy like you, who usually kicks down doors and tackles Unsubs, holding a little baby and making those silly baby noises people make…" Emily trailed off with a shrug and another smile. She leaned toward him, lifting a hand to stroke a finger over Amelia's cheek. "She is a cutie, though." Suddenly Emily bit at her lip, looking at the door to the exam room before looking back at Morgan. "Do you really think Reid's going to be okay with this? With raising the child of this Colby guy?"

"Do you really see Reid doing anything else?" Morgan countered. His eyes scanned around him, making sure to keep up watch. "I think he'd take in a house full of kids if it meant having her back, anyways. She's everything to him."

"I can't believe he has a wife. I mean, I can't believe he never told us."

Morgan sighed out a deep breath. He'd known this would come at some point. The look Emily was giving him was full of questions. "I don't think he would've told me, either, but I stumbled across it." He told her. "I caught him drunk at a bar one night. The bartender told me he only did it three times a year. Later on, I found out the dates. Her birthday, their anniversary, and the anniversary of her disappearance. Anyways, I got him home, got him tucked in, and there was this picture. He told me the girl was his wife. So, in the morning when he was sober, I got the truth outta him."

There was an aching look on Emily's face when she looked back at the door. "Can you imagine living all those years not knowing what had happened to your spouse? To be stuck wondering where they were or if they were okay? I don't know how he did it."

"He told me he knew she was alive. In his heart, he said he knew." Adjusting the little girl he held, Morgan shook his head. "I just hope they come out of this okay. I think they're both still in shock. This is going to hit and hit hard at some point. I think they're both gonna need some help to get through this." He was interrupted by the sound of his cellphone ringing. Pulling it out, he quickly answered it before it could wake Amelia, bringing it up to his ear. "Morgan."

"Hey Morgan." JJ's voice came over the line. "I told Hotch I'd update you guys. They got ahold of Mikayla's mom and grandma. They're both on their way out here right now, despite protests. They tried to reach her father but apparently he's on a fishing trip and isn't due back until Monday. They're trying his cell phone. If they don't get him, they'll send some officers out after him. We aren't taking any chances."

"Good. From the sounds of things, he won't hesitate to go after any of them."

"That's what Hotch thinks. He and Rossi are gathering everything they can on Colby. Garcia's going to send you a picture here shortly so you guys know who to watch out for. And I'm at the store right now picking up the things Spence asked for, so let him know I'll be there before too long. Hotch says to call as soon as you guys know if they're going to keep them overnight or release them. Right now they're working on setting up a safe house."

"Any sign of our Unsub yet?"

"None so far. He hasn't used any credit cards, anything like that." JJ paused and he could tell that she didn't like saying what she said next. "If you guys can talk to Mikayla, we need to know if there are other names he might have used, anything like that. You know the questions we need answered, Morgan."

He sighed. Yeah, he knew. He just didn't want to have to be the one to make her walk through this whole thing. "Soon as they're done, we'll see about getting those answers, JJ. Thanks for updating us."

"No problem. See you shortly."

While he put his phone back in his pocket, he caught Emily up on what JJ had said. About the time they finished, the nurse stepped out of the room, shutting it behind her. "The doctor should be here shortly for both mom and child." She told them. "They'll let you know when it's clear to come in."

"Thank you, ma'am." Emily said politely.

As the nurse walked away, the two agents settled in to wait.


	10. Chapter 10

Getting through the exam was an ordeal on its own and yet it wasn't as bad as Spencer had thought it would be. Their doctor was a woman, thankfully. That alone made it easier. But Mikayla wasn't quite comfortable with anyone really touching her. She kept Spencer close to her side while at the same time seeming afraid of letting him see her. Though Spencer hated it, there was nothing he could really do to stop this from happening. He could only ride it out with her. By the time they were done, the both of them were frazzled, stressed, and ready to leave. Spencer's heart ached from things he'd seen. There were small, random scars Mikayla flinched over being seen, things that she tried to hide from his eyes that he knew hadn't been there before. One on her inner thigh, a couple thin ones on her back, and then the worst of all—her right ankle. Though they weren't extremely noticeable, there were scars there that Spencer only recognized because of his work. They were scars that came from being cuffed. She had been cuffed on her ankle and, from the looks of it, it had either been too tight at one point or she'd tried to pull free and tore the skin a few times. The scars were old now, healed over; just shining, barely raised lines on her skin.

The doctor, Dr. Lynn, gave them a moment for her to dress before they brought Morgan and Emily in with Amelia.

Finally, both of the girls were declared in good health. Mikayla was given some paperwork on the care she needed to take and what kind of diet the doctor wanted her on—she was underweight, as Spencer had thought. Otherwise, they were given the green light to go home so long as she followed orders and made sure to rest.

With good timing, JJ was just entering the waiting room when the group made their way back out. She had a diaper bag slung over one shoulder and another bag on her arm. As they got close, Morgan's phone rang and he stepped off to the side. When JJ saw them, she smiled at them all. As they got close, she started to take the diaper bag off her shoulder. "I got the stuff you needed, Spence, and a few other things as well. Most of it is out in my car right now but I brought up the stuff I thought you might need." She turned away from him and toward Mikayla, putting on her friendliest smile and holding out a hand. "Hi. I'm Jennifer Jareau, but everyone just calls me JJ. It's really, really nice to meet you."

Mikayla hesitantly stuck a hand out. She shook JJ's hand, giving a shy sort of smile. "It's nice to meet you too, JJ. I'm Mikayla."

"I brought some baby things for your little one and I grabbed some stuff for you too. I kind of had to guess off the size, but I thought you might like something fresh to put on so I figured we could just make due." JJ said with a gesture toward the bag on her arm. "Would you like to step in the bathroom, get yourself and your baby changed? I don't mind stepping in with you and giving you a hand if you'd like."

It didn't escape anyone's notice, the way Mikayla looked to Spencer first. He nodded at her and squeezed the hand he was holding in a reassuring way. "Go ahead. I'll wait right here for you, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I do."

With one last deep breath, she nodded at him and turned back toward JJ. "Fresh clothes would be wonderful." She admitted. She took the baby carrier from Spencer and then she and JJ set off to the bathroom just ahead. Spencer watched them until they disappeared inside. Then he wasted no time in turning toward Morgan to find out what was going on. He had to wait a minute as Morgan wrapped up the call before his friend finally turned toward him. Spencer stepped toward him. "What's going on?" he asked his friends. Emily stood at Morgan's side, waiting to find out about the phone call.

Morgan took a quick look around to make sure they were clear before he started to sum things up. "So far there's no sign of Colby anywhere. Garcia can't find anything on him since college. No one's been able to get Mr. Walker on the phone yet; apparently he's on some fishing trip."

"Yeah, he goes once a month if he can." Spencer told him. "Really he just goes to his cabin and hides out for a few days, but he claims he's fishing."

"Well, no one got him on his cell so they're sending an officer out there to let him know, just so they don't take any chances. Mrs. Walker and Memaw were told what was going on and, despite being told it's not the best thing to do, they booked a flight out and apparently they'll be in by about eight thirty tomorrow morning. I just talked to Hotch and he said JJ tried talking them out of it and so did the locals, but it's a no go. They were set on coming no matter what. "

At that bit of news, Spencer swore he could feel the headache building behind his temples. The idea of dealing with Memaw wasn't troublesome; if anything, she would probably be helpful. But Mikayla and Betsy Ann had butt heads more often than anything and he didn't know how well he was going to be up to dealing with that and he wasn't looking forward to protecting even more people. This just made things even more difficult. "That woman thrives on making things difficult for other people." He grumbled under his breath. Then he sighed. "But it'll make Mikayla happy. It'll help her to see them." And that was what mattered. He looked back to Morgan again. "Where are we staying?"

"Here's the thing, kid." Something crossed Morgan's face and Spencer could see that his friend didn't want to have to say whatever this was. The discomfort and annoyance there were a good clue and Spencer had a feeling he knew what was coming. Morgan shifted and sighed. "The Bureau, well..."

"They still believe she walked away on her own." Spencer cut in flatly. "Since she didn't show with any obvious signs of abuse and now her exam came clean, they'll take that to mean that there wasn't any kidnapping. That she's just made this up. So they won't issue protection when they see no actual threat."

"Exactly. But that doesn't mean we're not going to protect you guys. There are still five of us, kid. We'll take shifts and keep you guys safe. And Hotch is working with Strauss to try and get even just a light detail. For now, we're on it, with or without their help. Hotch says that you're off tomorrow and so am I so I can stick with you guys to keep an eye out. Even if we're on our own, we'll keep you guys safe. But that means we need to figure out a place to put you all to better watch out for you."

Emily spoke up for the first time. "We're not going to leave you guys in the lurch. We know what's going on, even if no one else wants to accept it."

There was no way he was going to be able to house everyone in his apartment, not comfortably. And to put everyone up in a hotel and watch them there would be too much of a dent in his pocketbook. Granted, he wasn't anywhere near as poor as people might've thought he was, but that didn't mean that he could just shell out for a hotel for a whole group of people. But where could he fit himself, Mikayla, Amelia, Betsy Ann, Memaw, and whoever decided to stay with them to 'stand guard'? Because he knew Morgan and he knew his best friend was most likely going to take up residence with him until this was taken care of. Bringing his fingers up to his temples, Spencer rubbed at the headache, trying to think of what to do. He needed a house big enough to hold them all.

A house.

He opened his eyes and looked back at his friends. "I've got property we can use."

"What?" Emily said with surprise.

Embarrassed, Spencer dropped his hands, stuffing them in his pockets. "Gideon has a house in Alexandria. When he left, he left me the keys and told me to feel free to use it as often as I needed, kind of as a retreat like he did with his cabin." He shrugged at the looks of disbelief they gave him. "There isn't much there—just some bare essentials. The basic things I'll need when I just want to escape. But it'll fit everyone in it. I'll just need to get the utilities turned on." And he would call Gideon to make sure the man was okay with this, something he didn't think he should mention to the others. Gideon had requested he keep quiet about the minimal contact they had with one another.

Emily raised an eyebrow and gave him an appraising, slightly amused look. "You're just full of surprises, Reid."

Humor was in Morgan's eyes and had his lips curling. "I'll tease you about it later. For now, it's late, kid. Why don't you guys just stay with me for tonight until we get the power on at this place? You three can crash in the guest room tonight."

It seemed like the best option. More than anything, Spencer wanted to get Mikayla somewhere that she could rest. She looked exhausted and she needed sleep. Sighing, he nodded. "So long as you're sure, Morgan. I don't want to put you out."

"Shut up, kid. That's what family does, all right?" Morgan said with a roll of his eyes. He gestured off to the side and Spencer saw the ladies stepping out of the bathroom. "Now come on, let's get your family and get home. I think everyone needs some rest."

* * *

Things seemed to be moving so quickly. Mikayla felt like she was just being pulled along, rushed from here to there, with no idea what was going on anymore or what was happening around her. There were so many people, so many different things, and she was just so _tired_. Tired physically, mentally, and emotionally. Too many things had happened in the past twenty four hours and it was all catching up with her. She was barely awake through the ride to wherever they were going. When they got there, she stuck close to Spencer and followed his lead, letting him get her and Amelia inside the house while the other agents unloaded things from the car that JJ had brought for them. Apparently Spencer had sent her shopping. The fact that he'd thought of that, of her and Amelia needing things, was touching.

"Come on." Spencer said softly to her. He could see how disoriented she was. "Why don't we go in the kitchen and get a drink while they get stuff inside?"

She let him usher her in through a cozy looking entryway and into an equally cozy dining room and kitchen. "Where are we at?" She asked him as she sat at the table when he pulled a chair out for her. Amelia's carrier was placed by her feet. "Is this place…is it yours?" He seemed so comfortable and at ease here, yet it didn't seem like his place. The things, the décor, didn't seem like things he would've chosen. _Then again, you've been gone for years. He may have changed. Maybe this is the style he likes now._

Humor lit Spencer's face. He paused in mid-stretch toward a cupboard to turn and look at her, his smile lighting up his whole face and warming her from the inside out. "Does this really look like my type of place?" Amusement was laced through his words. "This is Morgan's place."

A hesitant smile curved her lips. "I did wonder why there weren't floor to ceiling books when we came in."

This time Spencer let a warm chuckle out. He pulled cups out of the cupboard and set them on the counter. Then he moved over to the stove, pulling out a tea kettle and filling it with water to get it started warming. "That would require Morgan to pick up an actual book."

"I heard that!" Morgan called out as he walked past, carrying what looked to be a…a bassinette. "I do know how to read, kid!"

Emily followed behind him, carrying a couple shopping bags. "Dirty magazines don't count, Morgan."

His answer could be heard echoing down the hallway. "I read more than that! And they do have stories in them, you know."

Chuckling even more, Spencer moved to another cupboard and pulled out a basket with tea bags in it. He set it down and turned his head to give her his smile once more. "The tea's mine. I spend time here often enough that I make him keep things around for me. You still drink chamomile tea?"

_He remembers the tea you like_. Her smile grew just the slightest bit. "I do." She tipped her head sideways just a little. "Do you still drink earl grey?"

"When I can't have coffee."

"Has he always been a coffee freak?" Morgan asked as he came back out to the dining room. He moved past Spencer, skirting around him to get to the fridge, but he cast a humorous look at Mikayla. She found herself smiling back instinctively. Something about the man was just so kind and friendly it was hard to resist. "Yes." She answered him. "We both were. He actually introduced me to it. I'd never tried it and one day, he offered me his cup. From then on out, he always brought a second one for me."

"I had to!" Spencer defended with a grin. "You drank the rest of mine that day. Offering you a taste was not an invitation to consume the entire beverage."

"Terms were never stipulated." She countered. "Therefore it was an open ended offer."

Emily laughed as she joined them. She stopped by the table to smile down at Mikayla. "The bassinette is set up if you'd like to lay her down. There's a baby monitor in there too so you can bring the base out and hear her, just in case. I set that up for you."

Surprised, Mikayla looked around her at these people who seemed so easy, so accepting. They didn't seem to be flinching at all from what she said or what was happening. They were just rolling with the punches and treating it like it was the most normal thing for an absentee wife to show up with a new baby that wasn't her husbands. Like it was something they dealt with every day. She didn't know how to act around them or how to take their reactions. "I, um, thank you. I think I'll go feed her and lay her down." She slung on the diaper bag and bent to lift the carrier. She looked to Spencer. "I'll be back out shortly." She told him before turning to Emily. "Can you show me where to go?"

"Sure thing. Come on this way."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later found the three profilers and Mikayla seated in Morgan's living room. Spencer and Mikayla took the couch while Morgan and Emily took the recliners. Spencer knew what was coming and he wished they didn't have to. There was no telling how Mikayla was going to react to this. But he couldn't stop it; it had to be done. All he could do was be here for her. He'd asked Morgan to let him tell her what was going to happen, though. He thought she might take it better from him.

When they were all settled in, Spencer leaned forward and set his mug down on a coaster on the coffee table. Then he turned himself toward her just slightly. "Mikayla. I understand that today has been so very hard on you. You've been absolutely amazing so far and so very strong. I know that you're ready to just lie down and shut all this off." Reaching out, he put his hand on her knee, trying to catch her eye as he bent his head a little. "Morgan and Emily, they've got a few questions they need to ask you. Things that can help us catch Colby. Do you think you're up for answering them right now?"

She had her head bowed, her eyes staring down into her mug. He thought to himself how very small she looked sitting there. Dressed in clothes that were just a bit too big for her and huddled in the way she was, she seemed so small. None of that strength he knew was in there was showing at the moment. She looked like a wrong move, a wrong word, would shatter her. The dainty hands that held her mug shook slightly and she leaned forward to place her mug on a coaster. Then she sat back, curling her legs up with her, curling in on herself in a defensive pose, and Spencer had to fight the urge to scoop her up and shelter her from anything ever hurting her again. He wanted to protect her so that no more harm could come to her but he knew he couldn't. They had to do this.

When she was fully curled onto the couch, legs up and arms around herself, she nodded at them. "I'm ready."

A look from Spencer told Morgan to hurry up and get this done with. He wanted it over so he could get his wife lying down. She didn't need anything else today and if this wasn't extremely important, he wouldn't be allowing it now. Morgan nodded his understanding and he and Emily sat forward in their chairs, switching over toward work mode. Emily pulled something out of her bag and set it down by them on the coffee table. "Mikayla, we're going to record this if that's all right with you. For evidentiary purposes. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes." She said softly.

Emily pressed the button to record and sat back. She took lead first, hoping to make Mikayla more comfortable. "Can you state your name for me?" They would start with easy questions, setting a baseline.

Though her voice was quiet, it was steady. "Mikayla Rae Reid."

"Do you know what day it is, Mikayla?"

She paused for a second to think before answering. "I believe the calendar at the hospital said it was Thursday, October first, 2010."

"Do you know where you are now?" Emily asked. It was simply to establish that her mind was in working order, that she was capable of understanding where she was and what was going on around her. Spencer knew that, but Mikayla didn't. She actually looked toward Emily then, one eyebrow cocked, her voice just slightly steadier as she said "Agent Morgan's house."

Humor brightened Emily's eyes for a second. "I know these questions seem silly, but we need to show your thought process before we get into more detailed questions." Then she settled back in, getting just a little more serious, her voice gentling a bit. "We're going to ask you some questions first and then we're going to try and walk you through what happened to see if we can gain some more details. Are you ready, Mikayla?"

A soft tremble took her. She moved one hand, sliding it toward Spencer. He turned his hand so that she clasped his, not him grabbing hers, letting her control their touching. "I'm ready." She said.

"Can you tell us where you've been living recently?"

"I didn't know for a while, but when I was at the hospital to have Amelia, a sign said Summit, Kentucky."

"Can you describe the house for us that you stayed at?" If she hadn't known her exact location, maybe she could give them enough of a description that Garcia might be able to search property and narrow it down.

Mikayla chewed on her lip in a gesture the two agents found so reminiscent of Spencer. "It was a two bedroom cabin. A single story. I, I don't know how much property there was. We were almost completely surrounded by trees except for the driveway. But it was simple. There was no phone, but he had television."

"That's good. You're doing fine, Mikayla." Emily reassured her. "Now, when you went to the hospital to have Amelia, who took you there?"

"C-Colby."

"Do you know what name he checked you in under?"

"Tyler. He told people I was Kay Tyler, his wife." Her hand clenched on Spencer's hand at the word wife.

Spencer watched Morgan jot that down. They would check records for a Colby Tyler now to see if he'd used that name for other things as well. If they'd had TV at this cabin, they would've had power, which meant somewhere there would be a power bill."

It was Morgan who asked the next question, his voice pitched lower and gentler than normal, the voice he used when speaking with victims. "Can you tell us what he looks like, Mikayla? Maybe he's changed his looks, or there's something distinguishing about him that he won't be able to hide." He left unspoken that Colby could alter his appearance now to remain hidden.

"He didn't change his looks." She said with a shake of her head. "But he, he has a scar on his face he can't hide. On his left cheek, back towards his ear. About…this big." She held up her free hand, spacing her pointer finger and thumb apart to guesstimate the size. Spencer couldn't stop himself from saying "About five inches, then. Roughly." He cut off when he saw the amused looks his direction. Flushing, he settled back, letting them get back to what they were doing.

Morgan shook his head once at Spencer before going back to Mikayla. "Do you know what kind of car he drove? A car, truck, van?"

This time it was Spencer's turn to look amused. He couldn't stop from smiling as Mikayla opened her mouth and proceeded to surprise the two agents. "He drives a 1983 Ford F-250 extended cab pickup. A while back he installed a power winch to the back. The truck is white with a solid blue stripe running down either side. I know the letters were AWF but I don't remember the numbers on the plate." Well used to people's reactions, Mikayla gave them a genuine smile. "My Daddy's didn't worry about gender. He taught me all the things you'd teach a son, like hunting, fishing, cars and other things like that."

"So you can shoot, too?" Emily asked her.

"Yes, ma'am."

"All right. Why don't you walk us through what happened the day you were taken, Mikayla?" Morgan brought the conversation back under control. "What do you remember?"

Slowly Mikayla walked them through it, the same as she'd done with Spencer. She told them how she'd been waiting for Spencer to get home, getting ready to make coffee, and how Colby had stopped by. How'd he'd threatened to kill her father if she didn't cooperate and how he'd said that Spencer was brainwashing her, that she didn't really love him. "He kept telling me that, over and over." She whispered in a hoarse voice. Her hand was clenched on Spencer's and her eyes had dropped to her lap. "He kept saying he knew I wasn't really happy and that I didn't know better. That Spencer had brainwashed me and that he was going to help me see the truth. See that we were meant to be together."

"So he thought you and he were in love?" Emily asked.

"Yes." Nodding, Mikayla visibly tried to draw herself together. "So long as I played into that, played his game, he really wasn't…he wasn't that violent. He, he only got mad when I, when I tried to leave or argue. If I f-fought him. Then he'd get m-mad and he'd, he'd…" She stopped, her voice cutting off, and swallowed audibly. Her grip was so tight now her knuckles were white. Spencer said not a sound. He was fighting back his own anger. Right now this wasn't about him; it couldn't be about him. This was about her and she needed him here and strong for her. He kept a tight lid on his emotions and did the only thing he could, silently sitting there, holding her hand and supporting her.

Eventually she found her voice once more. "He'd hit me." She whispered. "But it only happened if I fought him. If I played along, pretended we were a happy couple, he could be so sweet. At first, he, he kept me ch-chained in the house by my, my ankle. When I was good for a while, he took it off and let me roam free. I waited a few days, let him think I was good, and then I ran. But he caught me." Her voice dropped low, emotion throbbing in the words. "He, he was _furious_. After he…after…he got a, a s-shock collar. I c-couldn't leave the house or it would g-go off and I couldn't pick the lock on it."

Bile rose in Spencer's throat. He didn't know if he could handle hearing this. A shock collar? A fucking _shock collar_? If he could, he would hunt Colby down for this and he wouldn't kill the bastard. Oh, no. That would be too simple. Too easy. No, he'd torture the bastard so that he knew what it felt like to be reduced to something like this. To be treated this way.

Mikayla lifted a hand to her face, covering her mouth, and Spencer ached to take her in his arms, but she was letting go of his hand and rising to her feet, her arms coming around her waist. Emily leaned forward to stop the tape and then she rose as well. "Why don't we take a break? This is plenty for tonight, Mikayla. This is enough to work with, okay?" She gave her a kind look. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"I…I'd like to take a shower, please, if that's all right. I, I want to get clean."

The trembling words were quiet, barely able to be heard. Morgan looked up at them and quickly answered her. "Of course. It's the second door on the left. Towels are on the shelf in there. Just help yourself to any of the shampoo and such in there."

"Thank you." Quick as a flash, she disappeared down the hall. A moment later they heard the bathroom door shut.

The living room stayed quiet as they all waited and listened. When the sounds of the shower turning on reached them, it seemed to break the spell over the room. The frozen feeling Spencer had felt vanished underneath a sheet of rage and heartache. He didn't think, didn't pause; knew only that he couldn't sit here. He shoved off the couch, ignoring Emily's whispered "Reid…" All he could think of was getting the hell out of this stifling room. Away from the echo of her words that still seemed to ring around him. He headed straight to Morgan's back patio, needing the fresh air. Needing to be able to breathe again. Behind him, Emily stared after him, unsure what to do. Morgan rose from his chair, putting a hand on her arm. "Keep an ear for Amelia, would you?" He murmured to her. "I got Reid."

Finally outside, Spencer lurched to the edge of the patio, grabbing onto the railing to support himself before his knees ended up giving way. He clutched tightly, until his knuckles were white, keeping himself upright. His stomach was churning, threatening to empty on him at any moment. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break down and cry. He wanted to find Colby and kill him. So many conflicting emotions and he couldn't sort them out, couldn't breathe past them, could barely even think. Behind him he heard someone come out and knew without even looking that it would be Morgan. Right at the moment he didn't try speaking to him. He fought to clear the haze from his eyes and to bring himself back under control, little bit by little bit.

How long they stood there in the dark of the night and the quiet, Spencer didn't know. It could have been only minutes or an hour. He had no idea. Eventually, he felt under control enough to finally speak. "I could kill him, Morgan." He said hoarsely.

"I know, kid."

"A shock collar. He put her in a _shock collar_." Spencer's hands tightened on the railing. His muscles were trembling with the anger inside of him. He had never felt so furious in his entire life. This was beyond anger. This was rage. "He's broken part of her, Morgan, and I don't know if we'll be able to put that part back together."

Morgan stepped up beside him, one hand going to his shoulder. "With help, she'll heal from this, kid. And so will you. Together, you guys will make it. But you're going to have to admit that you can't do it alone."

"I know." Sighing, Spencer brought a hand up, running it through his hair. "If this were a case, I'd advise the victims to seek professional help. I'd tell them that it may look hard now, but it will get better and that they can make it with the proper help. I'd talk to them about PTSD, maybe, or other things. But dammit, this isn't just some case and she's not just a victim. She's my wife." His hand dropped back down to the railing once more to grip there. "I want to help her. I want to take her somewhere away from all this, just her and I and Amelia, and start to heal. To shut out the world and forget everything. I want to hold her and tell her that it's going to be okay and everything will be fine. But I can't. I can't do any of that. All I can do is sit and watch her hurt and hold her hand and hope that maybe, this time, I won't fail in protecting her." The last part slipped out without him intending it to, the words echoing in the night around them.

Before Morgan could comment on that statement, Spencer pushed away from the railing, moving toward the house. "I'm going to go check on her." He said, and he hurried inside.

A glance at the clock showed him that he and Morgan had been outside for almost forty minutes. Because of that, he was surprised to hear that the shower was still running. When he got close, Spencer furrowed his brows and hesitated. He lifted a hand and rapped his knuckles against the door. "Mikayla?" He tried not to call out too loudly; Amelia was sleeping not far away. His call brought no answer, though. He tried again. "Mikayla?"

On the other side of the door he heard a soft sound, low and quickly choked off, that tugged at his heart. A sob. Instinct took over and Spencer grabbed the handle, cracking the door open. He couldn't just leave her in here if she were crying, yet he didn't want to terrify her by coming in while she was naked. He could easily imagine that she wouldn't be comfortable being naked around anyone right about now. "Mikayla?" He called out carefully as he slipped into the bathroom. There was another choked off sob, but no words. Spencer stepped inside and pushed the door shut behind him. He couldn't just leave her in here. He couldn't.

Cautiously he made his way to the tub, noticing the steam that filled the bathroom and fogged the mirror. She'd been running the shower hot. The clinical part of his brain logged that fact away for later; the rest of him was focused solely on the shower in front of him. When he reached the tub, he stopped by the curtain, not quite sure what to do. "Mikayla, honey, it's me." No answer. "Mikayla?" No answer. Spencer couldn't hold back anymore. He took hold of the edge of the curtain and looked inside. What he found brought tears to his eyes. Mikayla was on the floor of the tub, her knees curled to her chest, arms wrapped round her legs and her face buried against her knees. Her whole body shook with quiet sobs.

All reserve dropped away and Spencer led with his heart. He reached in, hand going to the faucet to shut the shower and the water off, wincing when he felt how cold the water had gone. With his other hand he grabbed the towel she'd apparently set on the counter by the sink. Then he pulled the curtain back fully and sat down on the edge of the tub. "Come on, honey. Let's get you warm and dry." He said softly. With gentle hands he shook the towel out and leaned in, draping it over her shaking form. With the water off, he could hear her crying; hear the little sobs that were catching in her throat. When he wrapped the towel around her, she didn't resist, allowing him to tuck it around her body.

With gentle murmurs and tender hands, he coaxed her up off the bottom of the tub, twining the large towel around her as she rose. When she was standing and he had the towel fully tucked around her, he stood as well, helping her to step out of the tub. He had expected her to be more reluctant to his touch, so it surprised him when she almost collapsed into his arms. He just barely managed to catch her, sinking down onto the closed toilet to keep them from falling. She moved with him, easily curling into his lap, her face burying against his neck. Spencer ignored the water soaking his clothes and just wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He didn't shush her or try and soothe her back down. He sat there and held her close, cradling her against him like the precious thing that she was, and let her cry. "That's it." He murmured against her hair. "I'm right here. I've got you. Just let it out."

Her arms wound around him, hands fisting in the back of his shirt, and she was trying to talk but the sobs broke through the words until she finally gave up and simply slumped against him, crying and crying and Spencer felt his own tears falling. He held her and smoothed back her hair and murmured encouragingly, coaxing her to let it all out, to go ahead, that he was there and she was safe with him and it was okay to cry, it's okay, I love you and I've got you.

When the tears finally slowed, Mikayla was slumped against him, her body exhausted. He knew she wasn't going to stay awake much longer. The day had taken so much out of her and this bout of crying had just about done her in. Looking to the counter, he saw that there were clothes stacked there; Emily must have brought them in while he was outside with Morgan, because he knew Mikayla hadn't gone to the bedroom before coming in here. Blessing Emily's thoughtfulness, Spencer stretched one arm out and picked up the shirt first, pulling it toward them. She didn't resist as he helped her slide the shirt on. She slid her arms in and let him pull it down over the towel. Once it was on, he got her to stand, helping to hold her up when he saw her legs shake. The shirt hung low enough that it covered her as he pulled the towel out from underneath it. Then he took up the plaid pajama pants, blessing JJ for thinking of getting these things for her, and he helped her step into them, bringing them up and tying them at her waist so they'd stay up.

She curled into him once she was dressed, wobbling slightly on her feet, and he knew she'd reached that limit. Her body had had enough. For the second time that day, Spencer didn't hesitate to pick her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest. With careful maneuvering, he got the bathroom door open and carried her out into the hall. No one was around, thankfully. Spencer took her straight to the guestroom he'd used plenty of times when he'd stayed over here at Morgan's.

Once in the room, he quietly shut the door, leaving the room lit only by the low lamp. He peeked in at Amelia as he passed the bassinette, relieved when he saw her still sleeping peacefully, and then he carried Mikayla straight to the bed. He got the covers pulled back and was laying her down when her arms tried to tighten around him. She let out a little whimper that made his heart ache. "It's okay." He said soothingly. "I'm just laying you in bed, honey. You're okay."

"Stay?" The word was a quiet, exhausted whisper, but he heard it and he couldn't help but smile down at her. He hadn't been sure what to do about sleeping, not knowing how she'd feel or what would be comfortable for her, but here was his answer. "I'm not going anywhere." He promised. "I just need to get these wet clothes off, okay?"

She finally let go of him, allowing him to straighten up. When he went to strip out of his clothes, he saw his go-bag was lying on the floor and said a silent thanks to whoever had grabbed it from the office for him—most likely JJ had when she'd left. The woman was a wonder. Spencer changed into a pair of pajama pants and the oversized t-shirt he often wore to bed, putting his wet clothes over a chair to dry, and then he checked on Amelia one last time before climbing into bed. He lay on his side, one hand reaching out to smooth a still damp bit of hair back off Mikayla's cheek. All the pain and fear and anger aside, one thing shone brightest in him, one thought clearest. She was home. That was the most important thing of all. Everything else they could deal with. They would deal with it. What mattered most was that she was home. After years and years of being alone, of wondering where she was and if she was okay, he had her back. And he promised himself, lying there and watching as she drifted to sleep, that he would do everything he could to make sure that nothing ever happened to her again.


	11. Chapter 11

Breakfast was cooking on the stove when Morgan came wandering into his kitchen the next morning. Spencer was already in there, a pot of coffee brewed and ready, flipping pancakes on a griddle. He had a spatula in one hand, a coffee cup in the other, and despite the messy hair and sleepy look on his face, he was fully dressed with his gun situated on his hip. Morgan was dressed as well, with his gun on too. Neither one of them would be going without for the next little while.

Because of the times that Spencer had stayed over before, it didn't surprise Morgan to see the man making breakfast. On days their time was free and Spencer was up first, he would make breakfast. The older profiler stopped by the table and took a sniff of the air, drawing Spencer's attention. "Sausage." Morgan said with a sigh. "Coffee. Eggs. And pancakes? Oh man, kid, you're killing me." He looked like he was going to start drooling as he spoke.

Spencer chuckled and flipped the next pancake before moving to check the sausage in the skillet. "Should be ready in about five minutes."

"Sounds perfect." Morgan moved toward his coffee pot, getting down his mug and preparing his cup. He looked around before looking back at the coffee. "Where's Mikayla at?"

"She's feeding Amelia right now." Spencer answered. He sighed a little as he set his spatula down. "I think we may have to stop by the store and buy the supplies to bottle feed. Mikayla's milk isn't coming in well. The doctor warned us yesterday that this might happen. Stress affects the let down and since the two are still in the early stages where milk production is just starting, so to speak, her body isn't adjusting to it well. The doctor actually advised that we at least try to bottle feed supplemental bottles until things even out."

Morgan stood with his cup halfway to his mouth, staring at Spencer with his eyebrows raised. After a second he shook his head and made a soft scoffing sound. "Interesting facts, kid, but definitely TMI."

"TMI?"

"Too much information."

Blush heated Spencer's cheeks. "Oh." He turned back toward the stove, picking up the spatula to pull the finished pancakes off and set them on the plate. To distract from his embarrassment, he said "Why don't you set the table?"

"Sure thing, pretty boy." Morgan mock saluted him.

Spencer didn't get a chance to respond. He heard a sound that had him smiling instantly. A light, feminine laugh. Then Mikayla's voice was there, coming closer as she walked into the room. "Pretty boy?" She asked teasingly. "Is there something I should know, gentlemen?"

Morgan's deep laugh echoed around them and red flared into Spencer's cheeks. "Mikayla Rae!" Spencer scolded, embarrassment coloring his tone. He looked over when she stepped up to the table, watching as she sat in the chair Morgan pulled out for her. She was still dressed in the pajamas Spencer had put her in, but her hair was brushed and pulled back into a short ponytail. In her arms she cradled Amelia, who was swaddled in a yellow receiving blanket.

"Yes, Spencer?" Her tone was just slightly innocent but her lips were curving with a hint of a smile that made all the teasing worth it.

He pointed the spatula at her and raised an eyebrow. "You just watch it, or I won't bring you any pancakes." He threatened.

"You would threaten your own wife with loss of pancakes?" She pretended shock. "I can't believe it. What is the world coming to?"

Morgan was shaking his head and laughing at them while he set out silverware. "You two are something else."

Because he'd heard that often enough from Morgan, Spencer didn't even blink over it. He just started to bring the food to the table. He shut off everything he'd been using and brought over orange juice, filling the cup at Mikayla's plate. When he caught Morgan grinning at him, he furrowed his brows. "What?"

"Nothing, Reid. Nothing at all." Lifting his cup, Morgan hid a grin. "You're just awfully domestic this morning."

"Oh." Pausing, Spencer picked up his mug where he'd put it on the counter. Then he made his way back over to the table. "Shut up, Morgan."

So it was that breakfast started out on a high note. The three tucked into their food, the good mood continuing with them, Morgan and Spencer making a point to draw out the teasing for a while. It was making Mikayla smile which was all Spencer could ask for. After watching her break apart last night, seeing her smile and hearing her laugh, even if it was still soft and almost hesitant, was a balm on his heart. It gave him hope that things would start to get better.

She seemed much more optimistic this morning; she had since they'd woken up the last time with Amelia. As Mikayla had changed her, Spencer had caught her up on what they were doing so far. He let her know about her mother and Memaw flying in, noting the way it had made her light up some and smile, and he'd let her know about what their plans were for protection. He'd just finished explaining that when Aaron had called. After that, Mikayla had told Spencer to go take care of his phone calls while she fed Amelia. So he'd gone to the kitchen and made call after call to get things in order while starting breakfast. Everything that could be taken care of for the morning, was.

Apparently Morgan was thinking about their day too. As breakfast wrapped up, he glanced up at the clock before asking "Don't we need to head out soon if we want to get to the airport in time?"

Spencer shook his head and picked up his cup, sitting back in his chair. "I talked to Hotch this morning. He and Emily are picking up Betsy Ann and Memaw from the airport for us."

"Hotch called?"

"Yes. He let me know that they reached Alan and he's in protective custody at the school right now and he'll stay there until given the all clear. I also spoke with the power company and the power should be on by nine am at the latest, so we can gather a few things from the apartment and head over to the house later. Oh, and I called the alarm company and reactivated the alarm system on the house that Gideon had put in and I called a housecleaning company and they should arrive by nine thirty, with the promise that the place will be washed and aired out by noon. And the company is secure, Morgan." He added the last part when he saw his friend open his mouth to comment. "Hotch was the one to suggest it to me. After he had Garcia run all the employees."

Amusement sparked on Morgan's face. "You've had a busy morning, haven't you?"

"I wanted things taken care of before your house starts to fill." Spencer countered. He hid a smile behind his mug. His own look at the clock had him sighing and moving. "Speaking of, we've got about an hour before I estimate they should be here." He started to rise, reaching out to gather dirty dishes, but Mikayla and Morgan both rose before him and Mikayla stepped up, passing off Amelia before Spencer could blink. "You hold her, I'll get this." She told him. Looking at Morgan, she gestured for him to sit as well. "Sit, sit. I'll clean up breakfast. It's the least I can do."

Spencer adjusted Amelia in his arms, woefully awkward with this small child. Accepting her was one thing; knowing what to do with her was something else entirely. He'd held Henry a few times when he was small but mostly he'd interacted with the boy as he got older. Or at least old enough to hold on when you held him. But Amelia was so tiny in his arms. So tiny and fragile and he couldn't help but be afraid he was going to drop her. He was notoriously graceless and clumsy. Who would trust him to hold something so precious and breakable?

He didn't realize that Morgan was watching him, or that Mikayla kept sneaking glances at him as she gathered up the dishes. His whole attention was focused on the small infant that was lying so lightly in his arms, entirely unsure what to do. Then she opened her eyes. What it was about those eyes, he didn't know. Maybe it was because they looked just like Mikayla's eyes and he had always felt he could get lost in Mikayla's eyes. Whatever it was, they captivated him now just as they had yesterday. His body relaxed a little and a small smile curved his lips as he watched her lift her hands up toward her face, waving them slightly. With her curled into one arm, he lifted his other hand, taking her tiny little fingers with one of his. "Hello there." He murmured to her. "Good morning, Amelia Jane."

Footsteps came up behind him and then Mikayla bent over the back of him, her chin at his shoulder, her hand coming up to smooth back Amelia's hair. The sound of a click drew Spencer's eyes and he looked up to see Morgan holding his phone, having just taken a picture. "First family photo." He told them with a grin.

Mikayla chuckled and Spencer smiled. With one last stroke over Amelia's hair, Mikayla turned toward Spencer a little. "Why don't you go ahead and go get her dressed while I finish the plates, hm?"

Go get her dressed? Alone? "Me?" He squeaked out. Wide eyes turned toward her. "But I…"

"You'll do fine." She cut in softly. "Go on."

What else could he do? Moving carefully so as not to drop the little girl, Spencer pushed back from his chair and rose to his feet. He cast a glance at Morgan, seeing the man still had his gun, and then he headed down the hall, trusting that Morgan would keep an eye on things while he did this. When he got in the room, he chewed on his lip and nervously looked around. Okay. So, he'd never done this before, but it couldn't be too hard, could it? The logistics were simple enough. And this was going to be something he was going to have to learn how to do eventually. Why not now?

Determined, he snagged the diaper bag and brought it over to the bed with him. Then he laid Amelia down as he'd seen Mikayla do. "Okay, Amelia. Let's see if we can figure this out together, hm?" It seemed almost silly to be talking to her, knowing that she couldn't respond. But when Henry had been born and he'd read those baby books that JJ had, everything had suggested that talking to an infant was a good way to stimulate their minds and that, later in life, it encouraged language development. "Now, your Mother, she's better at these things than I am, but I'll get the hang of it. For now, just bear with me. We'll figure things out step by step."

Amelia made some sound and waved her arms as if in agreement. Smiling, Spencer set himself to his task.

* * *

Mikayla had only fibbed a little when she told Spencer she was going to finish up the plates. She'd been washing while he'd sat there with Amelia and she really only had one plate left. But it had warmed her heart to see Spencer bonding with the little girl and she wanted to encourage that, so she'd sent him off to dress her and she stayed out here, finishing off that last plate and then pouring herself another glass of orange juice, watching as Morgan made another cup of coffee. This seemed like the perfect time to ask some questions. Spencer seemed to trust this man with his life. If he didn't, he wouldn't have let them stay here last night. That meant that he had to be a trustworthy person. Not to mention he seemed so nice. Those combined gave Mikayla the courage to speak up and ask some questions that were bouncing in her mind. "So…you and Spencer have worked together for a long time?" she asked suddenly.

For a second Morgan paused as if surprised by the question. Then he went back to mixing in his sugar to his coffee. "Since he started there. He came to the team straight from the academy."

"You two seem like you're good friends. He's comfortable around you in ways he isn't with most people."

That had Morgan smiling in a fond sort of way. He picked his mug up, turning so that he was leaning back against the counter. "He's like my little brother. I try to look out for him, since he has this tendency to get himself in trouble. And he has this way of kind of growing on a person."

"That he does." Mikayla mirrored Morgan's pose, leaning back against the counter so that she was opposite him. Chewing on her lip, she looked up at Morgan, trying to think how to ask what she wanted to ask. Would he tell her? She had to ask him, though. She knew Spencer wouldn't answer her. "Has he…has he been okay?" She finally stammered out. "I mean, I know this had to be the hardest thing for him to live through, but did he…did he hold out okay? I know he'll tell me he's fine or that he was fine. He has this tendency to downplay things about himself that's extremely exasperating. But I figured with as close as he and you are, if anyone would know how he's been it would be you."

Morgan's look turned a little more serious. She saw on his face that he was thinking, weighing his words, taking his time to formulate an answer. She waited him out. This was important to her. She had to know how badly Spencer had been hurt if they were ever going to find a way to heal from this.

Eventually, Morgan seemed to find what he wanted to say. "When he first joined the BAU, he didn't advertise to everyone that he had a wife. Only Gideon and Hotch knew. Hotch thinks that Reid was just tired of fighting people to make them believe you were taken. I guess everyone kept telling him you really had left. He never believed it, you know. He looked for you the whole time you were gone. Our tech analyst, Garcia, she found the information in his file and she started to help him. And a few years back when I found out, I started too. He hurt without you, I won't lie. But he held on to hope. He always had hope that he'd find you some day and he never gave up on that."

Tears built in Mikayla's eyes. That sounded exactly like her Spencer. Even with people against him, he would still fight for what he believed in, no matter what anyone else had to say. "I hate that this hurt him." The words slipped past her lips. "I hate that he had to be hurt by all this, too. I always worried about him being alone. But it makes it a little easier to know he wasn't entirely alone. That he had you guys. You all seem more like a family than a team."

"You realize that that means, don't you?"

Confused, she tipped her head a little. "What?"

A grin stretched over Morgan's face, lighting his eyes. "It means you just gained a whole extended family, _kid_." The emphasis he put on 'kid' made her smile. "You're pretty much stuck with us all now. Lord help you."

For a second Mikayla debated something. Then, with a surge of her old impishness, she bit her lip before saying "So, that means that, since you're like brothers, that makes you like my brother in law, right?"

"Exactly." He agreed.

Nodding, she smirked at him. "Then I'm free to tell you not to take the Lord's name vain, Derek Morgan."

He stared at her for a moment before starting to laugh. When his laughter died down, the two heard something down the hall. It took Mikayla a second to place it, but when she did, she made a happy little sound and shamelessly moved toward the hall to better listen. Morgan followed quietly behind her, stopping when she did at the entrance to the hallway. There it was easier to tell what the sound was. That was Spencer, singing in that soft voice of his, the sound warm and sweet.

"Damn." Morgan whispered. "I didn't know the kid could sing like that."

This time Mikayla's tears were tears of happiness, of memories. A few slipped down her cheeks. "I used to imagine that sound." She whispered to Morgan. "He was always so shy about it, he only ever sang in the car or in church with me. Sometimes he'd sing to me when I couldn't sleep. Those memories got me through some long nights." In every word he sang, she could hear the love in his voice, love for the little girl he was apparently lulling to sleep. "She's not even his and he loves her. He loves her already."

Morgan's hand came up to rest on her shoulder. "That's just who he is."

"He's too good for me." Another tear escaped with that confession. "But, Heaven help me, I can't walk away from him." Without another word, she stepped away from Morgan and headed into the guestroom. What she found in there brought her tears on even more. Spencer stood in the middle of the room, Amelia cradled in his arms in clean clothes and slightly swaddled in a blanket, and he was swaying back and forth as he sang softly.

At the sound of the door shutting, he looked up at her, flushing a little as he realized he had an audience. The way his eyes lit and the warm, slow smile he was giving her had her smiling back at him, feeling the love she always felt around him grow just a little more. "I've missed that sound." She admitted quietly to him.

"I've missed you." The simple words were heartwarming.

"I've missed you too, Spencer. More than anything else."

They both started to move forward at the same time. But Spencer took one step and Mikayla saw him stumble a little, limping really, and she saw the way he winced. Instinct took over and she hurried forward to him. "You're hurt."

"It's fine." He answered automatically. Obviously controlling himself, he turned to the bassinette, laying Amelia down. Once his hands were free he reached one down to rub at his thigh. With another wince, he sat on the edge of the bed. Then he surprised her by holding a hand out to her. She hesitated only for a second. Then she took his hand, letting him pull her in to sit down beside him on the bed. "I am okay." He began when she sat. "I just overtaxed my knee."

"What happened to your knee?"

"Do you remember all the information we looked into about the BAU when I first registered at the academy? What exactly it is that I do?"

She nodded. "I do. You were so excited about becoming a profiler."

"Well, we were on a case…" And so he told her about the case with Dr. Barton. All about the Unsub who they had thought wanted a child when in reality what he had wanted was the father. He told her about realizing what was going on and making it outside in just enough time to tackle the man to the ground, earning himself a gunshot wound in the process. "I just got off the cane recently and I'm supposed to be taking it easy. It's just…easy to forget." He finished off. "And with as hard as we were pushing on the Reaper case, my healing already took longer than normal. We were all pushing hard with that one."

"The Reaper?" She remembered vaguely hearing something about him on the news once. Her brain couldn't dredge up those details. She was too focused on her husband, on the thought that he'd been _shot_. Her sweet Spencer, shot!

That brought another wince to his face. In a slightly hoarse voice, he told her about the horror of George Foyet, his arm tightening around her as if to reassure himself that she was there with him and that she was safe. Tears ran without shame down his cheeks when he told her—minus details, she knew—that the man had killed Aaron's wife, though thankfully he hadn't managed to kill his son. Mikayla found herself crying as well and, before she realized it, her arms slid around Spencer's waist so that she could cuddle in against him.

Spencer buried his face against her hair, sighing softly. "My job is not the easiest job out there, Mikayla. The hours are long and the cases are hard and sometimes, sometimes things happen."

Something in her told her where he was going with this. She twisted, bringing one hand up to lay a finger across his lips. When he was quiet, she pulled her finger back. "I would never ask you to leave your job, Spencer. Not when it's a part of who you are. I accepted the job way back then, when you first were approached. That's not changing now. We'll figure everything out and we'll make it work somehow. I have faith in that."

Once more he curled against her, this time pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "I love you." The hoarse words were just a soft whisper. It was so easy for Mikayla to return them. To forget her own horrors for that moment and just revel in her husband's embrace. "I love you too." And in that moment, it was enough for them to simply sit there in one another's arms. Here was where the world always seemed to feel…right.

* * *

They'd been sitting there for a bit when both heard the sound of someone knocking at the front door, cutting into their moment. The sound stirred Amelia, who almost instantly started to cry. At the same time, they heard muffled voices, one of which Spencer recognized as Aaron and others that were distinctly female. Spencer kissed the top of Mikayla's head once more before letting go. "It sounds like your family is here. Go, go see them." He smiled encouragingly at her. "I'll get Amelia. You go." It was easy to see the joy and longing in her eyes and he had no problem encouraging her to go. Anything, to make her eyes light up that way.

She practically raced out of the room while he was still gathering Amelia up in his arms. The little girl wailed for a moment while he held her, swaying slightly and making those soft shushing sounds that he'd heard JJ make before. Amazingly enough, it worked. Amelia quieted down, her tears slowing. "There we go." He murmured. "That's it. That's much better. You ready to go meet some more family, sweet little girl? Hm? Ready to go meet your Grandma and Memaw?"

Still making soft sounds, he made his way out of the room, heading down the hallway. What he saw in the living room had tears filling his eyes and his heart swelling. Mikayla stood there, wrapped in the arms of her mother and Memaw both, cocooned between them in a tight hug as the three women laughed and cried all at the same time. Off to the side, he saw Morgan, Aaron and Dave all in the kitchen, serving up coffee. For the moment that looked to be the safest place to be. The last place he wanted to be was amidst three crying women. He would give his wife the privacy of her reunion for right now; she deserved it.

* * *

**Don't ask me why, but I had a hard time with this chapter. Sigh. I hope it came out better than I feel it came out lol if that makes any sense. Hope you guys liked it and glad you enjoyed the last one. Thanks for your reviews! They're wonderful :D Also, I probably won't update tomorrow because I have to go to town and go grocery shopping and Christmas shopping. But there'll be one the day after tomorrow, so don't worry! I'm just missing one day lol**


	12. Chapter 12

**Here's the next chapter, folks! I know I missed yesterday, but here's the chap for today :) Hope you guys like it. And I hope no one seems bothered by what may be a slow pace. I got a PM suggesting I speed up my days a little (I've only covered two days in this last group of chapters lol! I'm slow) But I don't know, I'm trying to convey certain things. I got the same trouble when I wrote time. Now, like then, I think I'm going to say I'm sorry to people who feel it's slow, but this pace feels right to me. Things may pick up or jump later, we'll see. Well, enjoy your chapter folks, and most likely the next will be up by about this time tomorrow lol! And thank you, thank you, to your wonderful reviews! Y'all are great! *squee***

* * *

It made Spencer smile to see Amelia cradled in his stern boss's arms. There was something about a baby that seemed to melt even the most serious of men. Dave had been the first to claim Amelia, followed swiftly by Aaron. It did Spencer good to see the members of his family, and they were all his family, bonding together. It warmed in him inside in a place that had long felt cold and empty. Because of that, he couldn't seem to stop his smiling. Even with the situation over their head and the worry in the air, he couldn't help but smile at them.

He was startled out of the moment by footsteps, drawing his attention toward the hallway that led to the living room. A second later, Betsy Ann appeared. Ever polite, she smiled at the men before looking to Spencer. "Dr. Reid, speak with you outside a moment?"

Curiosity had Spencer's eyebrows going up. However, he didn't hesitate to answer. "Right now I'd feel more secure staying indoors, ma'am." Because he knew her manners and he knew she wouldn't openly say something to him in front of what might be 'company', he made a point to add on "You can speak in front of them. I work with these guys and they're like family to me."

He watched the hesitation on her face before it faded away. Her spine straightened and her chin lifted a little in preparation of what she was about to say. "The woman on the phone explained to us some of the situation. She said the man that took my daughter is still out there and that he's going to try coming for her. That he might try to take us to use against her. Is this true?"

"We're going to keep her safe, ma'am." Spencer hurried to reassure her. "I'll protect her with everything I have, I promise you. We're not going to let anything happen to any of you."

Something flashed over her eyes. "The last time she was left in your care, she got kidnapped." Betsy Ann said achingly. "So pardon me if that doesn't exactly reassure me."

The words cut sharp and deep, reaching that place inside that held the guilt Spencer couldn't stop himself from feeling. She was right. She was absolutely right. And oh, how that hurt. But Spencer had plenty of practice at locking down his emotions and putting on a front so that people wouldn't see the inner agony. That shield slid into place now, cooling his eyes and voice only slightly. "My entire team is on this, Mrs. Walker. We will protect Mikayla and Amelia as well as you and Memaw and we will catch this man."

This time it took a second for Spencer to recognize the look on Betsy Ann's face. Finally he pegged it for what it was. Confusion. But why was she confused? He found out why a second later when she said "Who is Amelia?"

Oh. Oh! Mikayla must not have told her yet. Spencer turned just slightly, looking over at the baby that was mostly asleep in Aaron's arms. "Amelia's our daughter." A smile curved his lips and he found himself lifting a hand to brush back some of that downy soft hair on her. "Isn't she beautiful?" he murmured.

"Daughter?" Betsy Ann's voice was hoarse. For a second she stood there as if frozen. Then she spun, taking off toward the living room with a strangled call of "Mikayla Rae!"

Spencer watched her go curiously, wondering what that was about. Why had she left so abruptly? A hand touched his shoulder and he turned to look over at Morgan, who was watching him a look that was part humor and part what looked like resignation. "Kid, you can't just throw something like that at people." Morgan said kindly.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Spencer furrowed his brows, looking at Morgan with confusion. What did he mean?

Looking slightly surprised by that, Morgan opened his mouth to speak, closing it briefly when words apparently wouldn't come. He looked over at Dave for help. The senior profiler chuckled a little and shook his head as if to say he wasn't touching this one. It was Aaron who spoke up, trying to explain something to Spencer that he knew the young genius just wasn't understanding. "Not everyone is going to easily accept that Mikayla came back with a child, Reid. Or that she's willing to keep that child. That either of you are, really. There are plenty of people who would've put the baby up for adoption and they won't understand why you aren't. News like this, you have to break it to people gently, not just casually throw it out there."

They could all see that this explanation didn't help Spencer at all. If anything, it made the young man more confused. He couldn't seem to catch on to what the big deal was here. Why would other people be bothered by it? That made no sense to him. Okay, so maybe he could see how he'd need to be a little more tactful saying something; he did have a tendency to say things at times that he shouldn't. But it just didn't make sense that he had to 'break it' to people gently. "I don't understand." His tone was perplexed. "Why should I have to break it to people gently? It's not as if I'm telling them that they're going to be raising Amelia. Why should her parentage matter to anyone but myself and my wife? I don't understand. If we're okay with this, then why should someone else have a problem with it? They're not the ones raising her."

His honest statement seemed to floor his friends. Spencer looked to them, trying to understand. Was this one of those social things that he just seemed to always miss? It seemed so silly to him. No one else was raising Amelia. He and Mikayla were. Why should he have to worry about what people thought of that? If he and Mikayla were fine with this, he didn't understand why everyone else wasn't as well.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't heard the footsteps coming toward him. However, a small hand on his arm drew his eyes downwards. Mikayla was right beside him, smiling sweetly, love bright on her face so that it took his breath away. "Don't worry about it, Spencer." She reassured him gently. "Your view is entirely accurate. If other people have a problem with us raising her, then that's their issue, not ours. Don't worry about Mama."

See, Mikayla understood! Content with that, Spencer let his arm slide around her, delighting in the fact that, though she flinched slightly, she leaned in to his embrace, laying her head against his shoulder.

Aaron wore just a small smile while both Dave and Morgan were grinning outright. "Well, Reid, why don't we go ahead and get you to your new place?" Dave suggested, still grinning. "Might as well do it while we're here so we can help make sure your place is secure and everyone gets there okay."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

* * *

It took almost a half an hour to get their stuff packed up from Morgan's and loaded into the cars and then another twenty minutes to drive to the house, Spencer's car in the lead because he was the only one who knew the way. Finally, though, they all arrived. When the group of vehicles parked in the long driveway, Spencer turned around from his spot in the driver's seat to look at all his passengers. Memaw was in the front seat by him, with Betsy Ann, Amelia and Mikayla all in the backseat. "We need to stay here." He told them. His eyes traveled out the window, watching as his friends, his teammates, got out of their car and made their way toward the front door. It felt so wrong to be sitting here while they went in. "They're going to make sure the house is clear. Safe." He tacked the last word on at the confusion he saw on Betsy Ann's face.

Memaw took this all in stride, smiling over at him. "You've got a nice house here, child. "

That brought Spencer's attention back toward the house. He looked at it, smiling a little. His mind played back Gideon's words from their phone call, making his smile grow. _"I've been letting you use it for years, Spencer. Now that you have a family, if you all want it, it's yours. It would be easy to deed the house to you. Consider it my gift to your family. A belated wedding present, so to speak. That house deserves a family inside of it."_

Memaw was right; it was definitely a nice house. It was two stories, with an attached garage, and it was painted a warm looking brown that seemed to sit perfect with the greenery around it. There were neighbors on this street, but one of the things Gideon had done when he'd originally bought the place was to fence in the sides and backyard completely and put in privacy trees back there as well. Often Spencer had wondered what Gideon had needed with a house with this many bedrooms—it was so different from his apartment or his cabin—but the only time he'd asked the man, Gideon had simply stated that the story was long and not one he wanted to get into. Spencer had a feeling that there was quite a story there.

"It's beautiful inside as well." Spencer said, looking back at his passengers. "The first floor is open throughout the family and dining room and into the kitchen where there is plenty of counter space and cupboard storage. The living room is spacious and boasts a fireplace." He couldn't help but look toward Mikayla as he spoke, gauging her reaction. "The master bedroom is on the main floor and it features an enormous dual vanity bathroom with a huge closet and both a shower stall and a soak tub. There are three bedrooms upstairs, one of which could easily be converted to an office, and over the garage is what's called a bonus room, which currently has nothing inside of it. Originally, the downstairs bedroom was a great room, but Gideon converted it when he bought the house so that the master was on the main floor, making the original master just another guest room upstairs."

Memaw slanted him an amused look and let out one of her husky laughs. "You sound like you're reading some brochure there." She teased. Behind her, Betsy Ann was shaking her head, but Mikayla let out a soft giggle. "Most likely he is, Memaw." She chimed in.

A flush filled his cheeks. To his relief, Morgan came out of the front door then, giving him an all clear sign. As Spencer got out of his door, moving to open the door for Mikayla, Morgan went and opened the doors for both Betsy Ann and Memaw. Betsy Ann stepped out almost regally, still silent. She'd been silent since Spencer had come to let them know it was time to go. Something told Spencer she was saving up what she wanted to say; when that came out, he knew it wasn't going to exactly be fun. That much he could tell by the haughty look she was wearing.

Memaw took Morgan's hand, letting him assist her from the car. "Allow me to escort you inside, ma'am." He said teasingly to her. The woman grinned at him, putting her cane in one hand and threading her other into the curve of his arm. "You can't fool me. You're just as much of a scoundrel as Spencer is." With a twinkle in her eye, she tipped her head toward him. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Both Mikayla and Spencer were smiling at the two. With a shake of his head, Spencer assisted her out before reaching in to detach Amelia's seat from the base. He took that in one hand and warmed when he felt Mikayla take hold of his other arm, much as Memaw was walking with Morgan. "This really is a nice looking place, Spencer." She said as they made their way up to the house. "Is this really yours?"

"Technically, it's Gideon's." He explained. "He's been letting me use it as a kind of hideaway when I need a break from the world. But he said that, if we want it, then it's ours. He told me it needs a family to fill it."

Surprise widened her eyes. "Oh! That's just…that's a rather lavish gift."

Suddenly nervous, he looked down at her as they stepped up to the small sheltered front porch. "If, you know, if you don't like it, we can always stay here just until we find a place of our own."

Her fingers pressed into the curve of his elbow, a reassuring touch, and she tipped her face up toward him. "Why don't you show me around before you start worrying?" With a slightly impish grin, she tugged him through the front door and into the entryway, then down to the living room. "Give me the grand tour, Dr. Reid."

"Leave the little angel with me." Memaw declared from her seat on the couch. "I want a chance to hold my great grandbaby. You two children go look around your new place, hm? Betsy Ann, stop looking so sullen and come sit yourself down with me. The rest of you gentlemen wouldn't mind bringing the things in from the cars now, would you?" She smiled up at them and didn't give them a chance to answer before continuing on, taking control of the whole group of them. "If they're bringing stuff in, you two need to go pick which room the nursery's gonna be so they know where to set things up." When no one moved, Memaw furrowed her brows and looked around. "Well?"

Humor lit Spencer's face when he saw his coworkers jump to follow this little old lady's directions. He shook his head as he walked over and set Amelia's carrier on the ground by Memaw's feet. "You'd make a fantastic asset in my line of work." His eyes twinkled as he straightened up and looked down at her. "You'd fool the Unsubs with that southern drawl and the sweet old lady look. They'd be confessing before they even knew what hit them."

Laughing, Memaw lifted her cane, swatting at him with it. He grinned and actually managed to dodge it. "Get on with you!" she scolded him, still laughing. "Go pick out the baby's room before your friends get back with the bassinette.

Together, hand in hand, Spencer and Mikayla made their way upstairs, the two of them still smiling from the teasing. The first bedroom on the left was the one that had been the master bedroom and it was the biggest and it sported its own bathroom. "This one would be best as a guestroom." Mikayla said, looking around the room. "Then when family or such stays, they'll have a private bathroom instead of having to worry about them using a kid themed bathroom."

"That makes sense." Spencer agreed. He moved with her towards the next two bedrooms. The other two were equal in size, with the only major difference being that one was the corner of the house and the other was in the middle. Looking back and forth, Mikayla chewed on her lip for a minute before saying "I think the corner one. Look, it looks like it gets the most natural light. It'd make a good nursery, I think. And you know." She turned, looking toward the hall that led to the room over the garage. "I think, instead of converting a bedroom into an office, we should make this room the office." She moved toward it, her voice thoughtful. "There's more room in here for bookshelves and a desk and it's a little more pulled away from the house, so you'll probably get more quiet in here and you won't be working right next to Amelia's room, either. Plus, it'll give you lots of natural light."

Spencer leaned against the doorframe, watching her as she moved around the bonus room, gesturing slightly as she spoke. It warmed him in so many ways to watch her moving around, making plans. Plans for them, in what was soon going to be _their_ home. Even just listening to her talk was heavenly for him. He didn't think he'd care what it was about; all he needed was the sound of her voice. It wasn't just a memory anymore. He wasn't just seeing memories of her, or hearing them of her voice. She was right here in front of him and she was real and home and he thought that maybe he was still reeling slightly from the shock of it all. After all this time, all these years of pain and fear and worry, she was here with him.

"Spencer?" Mikayla took a step toward him, seeing that little smile on his face that she had always loved to see. The one that told her she was loved and appreciated and wanted and needed, all without saying a word. An answering smile was starting to curve her lips. Before she could think, before she could change her mind, she surprised them both by closing the distance between them and lifting her arms, wrapping them around his neck so that she could stretch up and softly press her lips to his. The feel of her body against him, of the lips under his that he'd longed for for so long, was like a balm against Spencer's heart. He put his hands on her hips, not moving her, just resting there simply for the contact.

The kiss was short, but the emotion to it was strong. Both of them were smiling when they pulled apart. In a familiar gesture, Mikayla curled her hands, twirling her fingers around the hair at the back of his neck. "I love you, Spencer."

"I love you too, Mikayla."

The sweetness of their moment was interrupted by thumps coming up the stairs. "You guys better have picked out a room!" Morgan called out. "Cause I've got the bassinette and Hotch has the rocker."

The young couple couldn't help but chuckle. Together, they turned to show their friends where to go.


	13. Chapter 13

Forty minutes later found Spencer sitting downstairs in the living room, going over security measures with Aaron and Morgan. Dave had left to go back to the office and Emily was on her way to come take his place. With nothing current to go on and on hits from Garcia on the other name that Mikayla had given them for Colby, they were stuck playing a waiting game that Spencer absolutely hated. To try to make sure they were as safe as possible, they were building a plan. As Spencer had suspected, Morgan was planning on staying here with him and sleeping on the couch. No amount of argument was going to change his mind. While the men discussed this, Memaw had ushered Mikayla and Betsy Ann upstairs, claiming that Amelia needed fed and that she herself needed to have a little 'lie down' for a bit.

The things that Aaron was explaining were all basic things and all things that he knew Morgan and Spencer both knew. Still, it made the three of them feel slightly better, saying these plans out loud. It made them almost feel like they were in control of a situation that they honestly felt no real control in.

When Spencer's cell phone rang, interrupting their conversation, he didn't think before flipping it open and putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"You fucking son of a bitch." Were the first words snarled into his ear. Instantly Spencer was on alert. He looked over to Aaron, giving his unit chief a look that the older man instantly understood. Spencer watched him pull his phone out and press a button before lifting it. He didn't even greet the other person, simply saying "I need you to trace a call on Reid's cell right now."

All of Spencer's attention went back to the phone in his hand. He needed to focus on this and try to keep the man on the line for as long as possible. "Hello, Colby. It's been a long time." He said as calmly as he could.

"How dare you take them from me? They're mine, do you hear me?" There was an edge to his voice that was almost hysterical.

Spencer fought not to curse back at the man. Every protective instinct in him was roaring to life. But he couldn't indulge in that. He needed to be a profiler first and a husband second. "I'm sorry, Colby." The words almost stuck in his throat, trying to gag him. He swallowed it down and kept going. "I know you only want what's best for them. You love them and you're just looking to make them happy, right?"

"You're damn right! We're in love. I saved her! You were getting in her head, messing with her, but I showed her the truth! I showed her that it's me she's meant to be with. And now you've taken her from me!"

"Why don't you come over, Colby?" Spencer tried to sound calm and reasonable. _Play into his delusions_ he reminded himself. "We were always good friends. Why don't you come over and we'll have dinner like we used to and discuss this?"

"What?"

The surprise in the man's tone, showing that Spencer had thrown him, gave the young agent encouragement to go on. Maybe he would get lucky. _Keep him on here long enough to get that trace. Come on, come on, you can do it!_ "I don't want to cause any more trouble. I thought maybe we could all have dinner together and discuss this. It would be just like old times. You always had a good time when you came to visit for dinner, right? Mikayla's a fantastic cook."

For a second they all waited, his friends watching silently, to see if this was really going to work. Then there was a hiss in Spencer's ear and he knew it hadn't. "I'm not letting you get in my head too." Colby hissed at him. "Give them back or I swear I will fucking kill every single person standing between us. You can't protect everyone all the time. I will get to you and I swear, I will kill you. She's _mine_."

Behind him, Spencer heard someone knock at his door. He ignored it, seeing Morgan head that direction. All his attention was on the phone. "Colby…" That was all he got out before there was a click in his ear to indicate that the call had ended. Spencer closed his phone and looked toward Aaron right as Morgan came walking back in, Emily on his heels. The senior profiler put his phone on speaker as he said "Did you get it, Garcia?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry." Her voice rang around them. "I narrowed it down to a couple towers, but not an exact location. I can tell you for sure that he's in Georgia, though."

So they'd been right. He had gone after family. Suddenly Spencer felt slightly better about having Memaw and Betsy Ann there with him instead of in Georgia. If they'd still been there, he knew he would've been panicking right this moment, worrying for them. "Did you record the call?" The genius asked her.

"Sure did, buttercup."

"Good. Thank you, Garcia." Turning, Spencer looked to Aaron. "Is this going to be enough proof that Mikayla was telling the truth?"

Aaron flashed him a brief smile. "This is enough to easily get the case officially rolling. I'll have protection here within the hour, Reid."

Fantastic. At least this call had accomplished something. Nodding at his boss, Spencer took one last deep breath to calm himself. Only when he was sure he was under control did he look at them again. "I'm going to go and let Mikayla know what's going on. The rest of you do what you need to, but please, keep me updated on what's happening."

Morgan looked slightly surprised by his words. "Are you sure, kid? I mean, this is most likely just going to stress her out more."

"I won't keep anything from her. She has the right to know." That said, he made his way up the stairs. After a second he heard Morgan and Emily following behind him. That was fine. He was slightly resigned to having an extra 'shadow' for the next little while. If it kept his family safe then it was most definitely worth the invasion of privacy.

Just as Spencer got to the top of the stairs, he heard Betsy Ann's voice coming from the nursery. Not yelling, but very obviously not happy. Spencer had no qualms about stopping to listen the instant he realized what the topic of conversation was.

"How, Mikayla?" Betsy Ann was asking. "How can you so blithely state that you're not only planning on raising her but that you're going to have your husband raise some other man's baby?"

There was a slightly tight edge to Mikayla's words that Spencer had heard before, every time the headstrong girl had butt heads with her mother. "Because she's mine, Mama. No matter what you or anyone else says, she's mine, and I refuse to give her up just because she was made under undesirable circumstances."

"Can you honestly say you're going to be okay looking at the child of that monster day in and day out? You'll grow to hate her, Mikayla. How is that fair to her?"

Spencer couldn't believe it. Completely forgetting the people behind him, he pushed open the door and strode into the bedroom. "That is enough." He said firmly to the room. Mikayla sat in the rocking chair, Amelia at her breast, rocking as she nursed her, with a light blanket tucked around them for decency's sake. As eyes turned toward him, Spencer strode straight to his wife. Only when he was standing at the back of her chair did he look to Betsy Ann. "That's quite enough, Mrs. Walker. I understand that you're upset and I understand that this is quite a lot to take in. But that doesn't give you the right to try and dictate what Mikayla or I decide to do. We've decided that Amelia Jane is staying with us, right where she belongs. We are the ones deciding to raise her and we are the ones who decided that we love her, no matter her parentage. That is our choice, not yours, and it's a choice that's already been made." Moving his hand, he rested it on his wife's shoulder, feeling how relaxed she was. She said nothing, only watching as Betsy Ann gaped. Spencer lifted his chin a little. "Now, you can either accept that she is a part of our lives, or you can leave. The choice is yours."

Surprise had Betsy Ann taking a step back. "Why, I never…" She looked, wide-eyed, down to where Mikayla was still calmly watching. "Mikayla Rae, are you going to allow him to talk to me that way?" She demanded. "Are you going to let him force your own mother to leave this house?"

"He is my husband, Mama. I'll support him in whatever decision he makes, just as you raised me to do." Mikayla said evenly. There was no hint of trouble to her voice anymore, just peace. "And he isn't forcing you to leave. He's presenting you with two options. Whichever one you choose is just that—your choice."

The room went utterly quiet. Spencer stood his ground, refusing to back down on this. Betsy Ann was just staring at him as if completely floored by what he'd said. It was obvious she had no idea how to react to him. Spencer had only ever been the perfect gentleman to her before. But this, this was crossing a line for him. He would not allow anyone, not even Mikayla's mother, to cause trouble this way inside of his home. Absolutely not.

The silence was broken by Mikayla pulling Amelia up, adjusting her shirt before lifting the baby to her shoulder to burp her. The young woman obviously decided to take pity on her mother, breaking the silence for her. "Would you pull back the blanket in the bassinette for me, Mama? I think someone's going to lie down after this. Eating usually puts her to sleep."

"Always worked for you too." Memaw announced as she came into the room. Her eyes twinkled as they traveled around, stopping on Spencer for a moment, and he knew in that look that she'd heard the conversation and was not only amused by it, but proud. It was all easy to see in the look and smile that she gave him. Then her attention focused on Mikayla. "Even as a little girl, you went out like a light after snack time." Stepping forward, she put a hand on her hip and looked down at Mikayla. "Why don't you lay that baby down and then go lay yourself down, child? You look beat."

Spencer grimaced slightly, looking down at his wife before looking back to Memaw. Slightly embarrassed, he said "We haven't had a chance to go get my bed and bring it over yet, so our room doesn't have a bed in it."

Before anyone could say anything about that, Morgan spoke up and neatly solved the problem. "Why don't you give me your keys, Reid? I'll call up Will and see if he can come give me a hand and we'll get your bed and bring it on over so you two have somewhere to sleep tonight."

Surprised, Spencer looked over at his best friend. "Really?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it, kid. I can grab some other things too, if you want. Not a ton, mind you. I'm not a moving service. But I can bring over necessities if you need."

"Clothes." Spencer said immediately while handing over his keys. He looked down at himself and wrinkled his nose. "And the items in my shower."

Laughter echoed around them. "Can do, kid. Anything else?"

He thought for a second before smiling. "On my dresser, there's a square wooden box. Would…would you bring that to me?"

"No problem."

While they'd been talking, Mikayla had moved to lay Amelia down. The little girl was now settled in her bassinette, already drifting off toward sleep, not even bothered by the voices and laughter around her. Now that everything was settled in her eyes, Memaw looked at the young couple and put her hands on her hips. "While he takes care of that, I want the two of you to go have yourselves a lie down in the guestroom." She ordered them firmly. "You two look beat as all get out and I'm not having one of you collapse on me. Now, to bed! I'll keep an ear out on the baby."

The idea of lying down with Mikayla sounded heavenly, it really did. But Spencer wasn't about to leave Betsy Ann and Memaw without protection, downstairs by themselves. As if sensing that, Emily reached out and lightly touched Spencer's arm. "I'll be downstairs with them, Reid." She told him quietly. "Why don't you guys go ahead and lay down? You know this house is going to become hectic later when everyone starts coming by to visit. If it wasn't for work, Garcia would be here already. You'll need your energy later for her."

That brought a small laugh. Trusting Emily, he smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

It seemed like no time at all before everyone was downstairs and Spencer and Mikayla were standing in the guestroom, the door shut behind them. The two looked at one another, suddenly slightly unsure of themselves. This was the first time that the two of them were alone, without even Amelia to act as a buffer between them. It was just him and her and with that realization, it seemed like so many things suddenly leapt to life between them. Suddenly nervous, Spencer found himself chewing on his lip and shifting his weight slightly. As a way to distract himself, he found himself telling her about the phone call from Colby. When he was done, he could see the tension in her body. "This…it's a good thing though, right?" she asked him.

"In a way." He agreed. "It means the Bureau will assign us protection now."

She nodded at him. "Good."

Once more silence fell over the room. It seemed so, so awkward, and that was something he hadn't felt around her in a long, long time. Not since before they started dating. Finally, he couldn't take it. He had to break the silence. "Would…would you like to lie down a bit?" He suggested hesitantly. Almost instantly, he saw a flash of fear over her face and it felt like a fist to the gut. He quickly shifted just slightly away from her, not wanting to crowd her, and his voice turned gentle and reassuring. "It's okay, Mikayla. You can lay down a bit and I'll go, go take a shower." Something, anything, to reassure her and take away that fear. He never wanted her to look at him with fear on her face.

This time he wasn't quite able to understand what it was that went across her face. But he did recognize her change in posture; the way her arms came up to wrap around her waist and her face turned just slightly away from him. "Spencer…" The uncertainty and shame in her voice hurt him to hear. He hated hearing it there; hated knowing what caused that. She swallowed and closed her eyes, tipping her head down. "It's not you, honey."

This was very, very fragile ground they were standing on right here. He could easily sense that. Afraid to move for fear of breaking the moment, afraid of shattering whatever it was that was building, he held perfectly still and watched her as he asked "Then what is it?" Right now was the time for simple questions. She looked fair to bursting with whatever was suddenly inside of her and he knew she needed to let it out. If they were ever, ever going to find a way together through all of this, they had to talk. She had always been there to help him talk his way through his emotions, whereas she'd been the one confident enough to start it or at least prod him along. Now their roles were reversed. She was shy and reserved and he needed to be the one to prod her along.

When she didn't answer right away, Spencer didn't press it. He didn't do anything, in fact. Perfectly silent, he stood and waited. How long passed, he didn't know. All his attention was focused on the tight set to her shoulders, the clench of her arms on her waist, the small tremors that ran over her. When she spoke, it almost startled him, so lost had he been in the silence. "I feel…" Pausing, she swallowed audibly. "I feel dirty."

_Oh, Mikayla. _His heart cried for her. Still, he stayed motionless. "Why?"

"Because." She almost spat the word out. And then it was like the dam burst and her words exploded from her. "Because I let him, Spencer. I let him touch me. I let him in my bed. I did things he asked of me without hesitation. Things no woman should do with anyone but her husband."

"Mikayla, honey, you did those things out of fear. Fear of being hurt, fear of it being done to you whether you liked it or not…"

"It doesn't matter!" She cut in. Her head shot up and the tears on her cheeks were so painful to see. "It doesn't matter. I climbed into his bed, Spencer. I stripped my own clothes off for him. I slept beside him! The things I've done, things I let him do, I feel so dirty and I just, I can't put that on you. I can't make you as dirty as I am. I want to touch you and I want you to hold me and I just, I can't, because I think about how much he touched me and I don't want all of that filth to rub off on you."

Telling her that he understood why she'd done it would do him no good; Spencer knew that. He knew he could reassure her until he was blue in the face and it wouldn't change the way she felt inside. But maybe there was a different way he could do this. Maybe if he showed her that she wasn't the only one with stains on her soul, it might ease her, just slightly. For her, he would bare his soul; dredge up everything he had to. Anything, to fix this. There was nothing more important to him than her. "I'm not as clean or pure as you seem to think I am." When it looked like she would protest, he held a hand up, proud that it wasn't shaking. "I'm not. Just, just listen, okay? I need to tell you this. I need to tell you about Tobias Hankel."

With a voice that barely quavered, Spencer stood in front of the woman he loved and opened himself up to show her one of the lowest points in his life. He told her everything, holding nothing back, telling her even things that he hadn't told his team or the psychologist he'd been forced to see before he came back to work. He told her about the kidnapping itself, the time spent in that shack, the things that the camera didn't see. He told her about the Dilaudid, not just there, but once he was free as well, and the struggle he went through with that addiction.

Unbuttoning his cuff, he rolled his sleeve up and showed her the scars on the inside of his elbow, the faint marks that weren't extremely visible, but they were there. "I got clean and I got into a program. I attend NA meetings when I, when I need. But I absolutely do not take narcotic medication anymore, no matter the circumstances. I've relapsed once since I originally got clean. Right now, I've been clean for exactly one year and five months. That was the one and only time I slipped, for one single night." Dropping his arms, he sighed, looking right at her eyes. "We all have dirt on our souls, Mikayla. We all have things we've done that we're not proud of. Things that leave their mark on us. Francis Bacon says 'In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present.'" Following his heart, he took a step toward her, lifting one hand so that it could brush over the dampness on her cheek. "We both have our darkness, Mikayla. But your light still shines as bright as ever to me."

If anything, her tears seemed to come faster, but that light he spoke of, the one he'd always loved to see, seemed to shine a little brighter in her eyes.

Bending his head, Spencer cupped her chin and deliberately laid a soft kiss on her lips. He smiled when he pulled back. "I'm not asking you to let go of your pain and I'm not telling you to forget it. I know that's not possible. Right now, all I'm asking is to come lay with me. Just lay. It's been years and I'd love nothing more than to hold my wife."

The smile she gave him was so bright it was almost blinding. "I'd like that."

The both of them moved toward the bed, stopping to remove their shoes and set them off to the side. Spencer unhooked his gun, choosing to hang it off the bedpost instead of setting it aside, needing that reassurance that it was right there. His cell phone went onto the nightstand. Next came his tie and then his vest. Neither was comfortable to sleep in. When he turned he saw Mikayla had taken out her ponytail so that her hair fell around her face as she bent to pull the blankets back. He couldn't help but watch her move. She was so beautiful. Looking up, she caught sight of him watching her and smiled almost shyly at him.

Together, the two climbed into the bed. Spencer sat down, one hand going to rub at his knee at the ache that was still bothering him. He felt the bed shift as Mikayla moved over, leaning around him to look at his leg. "You said you were shot here." She whispered it almost like a question. Turning his head, Spencer looked at her face. "Yes."

"But you just told me that you don't take narcotics. Does that mean you went through the surgery and recovery without narcotic pain relief?"

Oh. A flush filled Spencer's cheeks. This seemed to get to people more than it got to him. "I took some non-narcotic medication at first. Then the ibuprofen worked fine for me." Embarrassed by the look she was giving him, he drew his legs up into the bed, tucking them under the covers. Then he laid back and put one arm behind his head, getting comfortable. Mikayla stayed propped up for a minute, looking down at him with a look he couldn't quite read. Then she smiled and surprised him completely by bending and kissing him briefly before curling right up against his side, her head going to his shoulder and her hand lying over his heart.

It was peaceful to lie there, not feeling the need to say a word, not having to get up and deal with anyone or anything. For that moment there was nothing and no one else. Just each other. They were both content to lie there and feel each other's warmth. Spencer felt his eyes close, contentment warm inside of him.

When Mikayla spoke suddenly, her soft voice seemed to suit the moment around them. "You know, I kind of like this room." She said against his chest. "And it has a private bathroom. I know it's smaller than the one downstairs, but it's nice. And we'd be right down the hall from Amelia."

Without opening his eyes, Spencer smiled slightly. The hint in her words was obvious. Amused and comfortable enough to not be subtle, he bluntly asked her "Mikayla, would you like to make this our bedroom?"

He swore he felt her smile against him. "It _would_ be a little more logical. It seems almost strange to have the master downstairs, you know? And this way, we have the private bath. Plus, then we could turn the room down there into your office."

"I thought you decided the bonus room was my office?"

"I'm sure we could figure out something for it. An entertainment room, maybe? With books and toys. Or a guest suite. Or even another bedroom, you know, for the future."

That had him opening his eyes. Turning his head, he lifted one eyebrow at her. "Another bedroom?"

Smiling, Mikayla closed her eyes and made a sound of agreement. "Mm hmm. Three bedrooms should be enough, I'd think."

"You think?" Slightly dumbfounded, his brain seemed to be stalling, not quite able to form full sentences.

She curled in close against him. "If not, well, siblings double up all the time, right? And the bonus room could easily hold two beds in it."

At first all Spencer could do was lie there and stare at her, mouth gaping slightly. Was he hearing her correctly? Was she seriously planning to have at least, _at least_, two more kids? Maybe more? He tried to think of something to say, anything at all, but in the end he gave up. With a shake of his head, he curled his arm around her and held her a little closer to his side. His other hand reached out and he picked up his cell phone, sending a quick text to Morgan to let him know not to set the bed up downstairs, just to bring it in when they got here. Then he put the phone down and relaxed back into the bed. "I love you, Mikayla."

"I love you too." She whispered back.

Spencer drifted off to sleep with a smile on his lips.


	14. Chapter 14

**so this chapter was almost 90% written like, a long time ago, lol. I had this before I had most of the rest of the story written. So I went ahead and fine tuned it, made sure it matched everything else I've done, adjusted a thing or two, and then decided to go ahead and post it. Here's the time jump you were all warned about and here's where I hope I stop boring people :D Ready? Read on! Hope, hope, hope that the time jump (and the summary for it) works okay for people. Thank you Mamogirl for looking at and approving of this chapter (and all my other chapters really) You're a peach, girl!**

* * *

After that afternoon, things between Spencer and Mikayla seemed to ease just slightly. Tensions still ran high in the house, yes, but between them, there was the start of healing. There was more understanding between them and with that understanding they were finding their own way to start working through it. At night, though the two still both dressed in shirts and pajama pants, they slept in one another's arms. And as Mikayla had wanted, their room was set up in the original master bedroom upstairs, that bed moved to the other room for Memaw and Betsy Ann. Morgan stayed on their couch as he'd declared he would. That first night, after everyone had gone to bed and the couple were finally alone in their new room, Spencer had felt the time was right to do something he hoped would help them both.

It was after Mikayla stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from her shower. She found Spencer sitting on the bed, back propped up against the headboard, almost zoned out on this little wooden box in his hands. Curious, she made her way toward him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Spencer?"

The sound of her voice startled him so badly he dropped the box in his lap and his head shot up. For a second the two only stared at one another, both a little stunned. Then Mikayla found her lips curving, a chuckle tickling at her throat. There was an answering smile on Spencer's face even as a light blush filled his cheeks. "Sorry. I was lost in thought a little."

"I never would've guessed." She teased. Riding that good humor, she leaned over, resting her weight on one hand. "What's that you're looking at?"

Spencer's eyes dropped back down to the box and his flush grew a little more. "This? Oh, well." He picked the box up, fiddling with it slightly, obviously nervous. It only intrigued Mikayla more. She cocked her head and waited, watching his face as he gathered the courage to say whatever it was he wanted to say. When he finally spoke, it wasn't at all what she'd expected. "When you and I got married, it was with rings that were family rings my mother had given me. And I'm not saying that they weren't right or that they weren't special. They were. But after…after you were gone, I always kind of knew that whoever had taken you, they wouldn't let you keep your ring."

Without realizing it, Mikayla's hand clenched, feeling the absence of the ring she wanted to wear more than anything. She had wasted no time throwing away the ring Colby had given her once she had been leaving the hospital. But the ring Spencer had given her…he'd taken that sometime when she'd been unconscious that first day and she'd never seen in again. That had always made her heart ache.

She didn't get a chance to say any of that, though. Spencer kept talking in that quiet voice of his, his eyes on the box in his hands. "A few years back, we were in this small little town in North Dakota called Illard and the case was done, but we were stuck overnight in the town because of fog that made it impossible for the jet to take off. Most everyone had gone to bed, but I wasn't tired, so I went for a walk to get myself some coffee at the little diner down the road. When I was walking back, I saw this little shop, and in the window I saw this display." A small smile curved his lips, some of his nerves fading away. "There were these beautiful yet simple rings there. A wedding set. I took one look at them and I just, I had to get it."

His eyes lifted suddenly, locking on hers. Then, in a move far more romantic than anyone else would've credited Spencer Reid with, he shifted to his knees on the bed and laid the box between them, lifting the lid so that she could see the simple gold rings that lay nestled on the velvet inside. "The first time around, I never gave you a proper proposal. And I know that kneeling in our bed in the midst of this chaos isn't exactly the most proper place for this either. But this time, I'd like to ask. Mikayla Rae, would you do me the absolute honor of sharing the rest of your life with me?"

Words wouldn't come. Her throat was too clogged with emotion. But when she flung herself at him, hugging him tightly, she was pretty sure he understood the 'yes' behind it. Smiling, laughing, the two lay there together as Spencer slid her new wedding set onto her finger before kissing it lightly and then she did the same for him. It was perfect.

The next morning, the two started their day much lighter in heart, despite the seriousness around them. Protection had been assigned to the household. All of them—Him, Mikayla, Amelia, Memaw, and Betsy Ann—were all considered at risk right now. It was obvious by his threats and actions, both current and in the past, that Colby was not above coming after anyone he could to get to Mikayla and Amelia now as well. The Bureau was taking no chances. Because of that protection, they couldn't even go to the grocery store without taking someone with them, something that was difficult for the two of them to handle at some times, especially since Spencer had always been a very private person. This was taking his privacy and making it nonexistent.

Still, days went by and, though they were watched, nothing happened. A week went by and still, nothing. Aaron suggested to them that they try to start appearing as if they were living a normal life, not one so closeted inside the house. The two went to their week checkup for both Mikayla and Amelia, getting a clean bill of health once more for the two. The only disappointment of the appointment had been the official declaration that Mikayla's milk wasn't producing adequately and they had to give in to the urge to bottle feed Amelia full time. At the end of the appointment, the doctor provided Mikayla with a business card for a woman psychologist who specialized in trauma victims and, to Spencer's immense relief, Mikayla had not only taken the card, but she'd actually made the call when she came home. He had held her afterwards as she'd quietly cried and he'd let her know just how proud of her he was.

One week turned into two with still no sign from Colby. No sightings, nothing in the system, no more phone calls. Nothing.

They made a few trips to Spencer's apartment, packing things into boxes, little by little bringing it over to the house. The ladies delighted in putting the house together, organizing things and directing where it would all need to go. As they spent more time there, Mikayla was becoming more comfortable around the team, smiling just a little more readily, which made Spencer happy. He wanted these people, all of whom were important to him, to enjoy one another. To see Mikayla talking with Aaron, or joking with Dave, laughing with Morgan, or smiling and laughing with Emily and JJ and Garcia, it was just perfect for Spencer. She'd even gone out with the girls—something that she and Spencer were only comfortable with because they knew both Emily and JJ carried guns—and they took her shopping to get her a new wardrobe. Though she couldn't go see him right now, she spoke with her father on the phone almost daily, another thing that made Spencer happy. She'd always been closest with him. She'd her first of what would become weekly appointments with her psychologist that week as well. He didn't press her about it and she didn't bring anything up afterwards, but when she came home and after Amelia was put down for a nap, they spent an hour curled up in bed with her silently shaking in his arms. He had no idea what to say for her, so he did the only thing he could and he held her, hoping she could feel his love.

Amelia was thriving underneath all the attention. She loved this family she was a part of and they all loved her. It was easy to see the little girl had wrapped this group around her little finger. Very rarely was she ever put down. There was no telling who would be holding her come feeding time, either. Even Dave had settled down a few times with the little girl in his arms, holding a bottle. Thanks to Garcia, they had plenty of pictures from these random moments.

Yet underneath all of this, there was a current of tension that ran almost constantly. You could see it in the way they watched as they were in public. In the fact that every agent that came and went in the house was never without their gun, including Spencer. It was there in the tight look around Mikayla's eyes or the way she would jump each time a car pulled up outside. And when two weeks became three, tensions ran almost to their breaking point when the Bureau announced it was pulling its protection. Spencer was called in to come into the Bureau and it was only the promise that Morgan and JJ would stay behind with Mikayla that convinced the man to go there without her. Worried, frustrated, and with his nerves stretched tight, Spencer let Emily drive him to the Bureau for whatever it was that Erin Strauss wanted.

* * *

It only took one look at Spencer's face when he walked through the door for Mikayla to know that the meeting with Strauss hadn't gone well at all. He had that tight, pinched look at the corners of his eyes that denoted a headache was brewing. Mikayla had just finished making coffee when she'd heard Morgan announce that Spencer and Emily were back. She poked out of the kitchen to greet him as he came through the door. Now, she moved straight toward him, saying absolutely nothing. She just walked straight to him, letting him fold her tight into his arms. There wasn't even a flinch anymore as she did so. She tucked her head against him, feeling his cheek press against the top of her hair, and she slipped her arms around his waist to hold him close.

After a few deep breaths, she felt his body relax just slightly. Now was the time to pull back a little. Now she looked up at him and asked "What happened?"

A small shudder ran down Spencer's frame and, for a brief second, grief and fury snapped in his eyes. He didn't mince his words. "They want me back at work on Monday."

They'd already talked about this possibility. The both of them had known that it was coming. Three weeks off from work was quite a while, despite him having the vacation time built up. It was one area where the two of them disagreed on what to do. He had been adamant that he would not leave her with Colby on the loose, no matter whether it cost him his job or not. She was just as adamant that he not lose his job over this. Worried, she watched his face, trying to read it as she asked "And what did you tell them?"

He sighed slightly and pulled her back in, resting his cheek against her hair once more. "I told them I'd have an answer for them by Friday." That was only two days away.

Right in this moment, with as stressed as they both already were at losing the protection detail and then now this; it wasn't the moment to discuss any major decisions. Right now the both of them needed to relax just slightly. Shifting in his arms, she stretched up on her toes to give him a kiss. "Come on, I've got coffee waiting for you."

They found Morgan and Emily already sitting at the dining room table that had been a gift from Aaron, one he said had been in storage and that he had no use for. There were a few items in their house that were gifted from others; things they claimed were just 'lying around' and not being used.

Mikayla ushered Spencer to a chair and then set about serving his coffee for him, preparing it just the way he liked. She brought it over, setting it down in front of him and kissing the top of his head. Before Colby, she had been a touchy, affectionate person. Her psychologist was encouraging her to find that part of herself again. To 'reconnect with the old you and match it together with the new you' as the woman put it. With Spencer, it was growing easier and easier. With others, it was still difficult, but she was trying. Now she smiled at the two that had quickly become friends. Ever the hostess, she asked them "It there anything I can get you two? Dinner's in about two hours, but we've got some fruit in the fridge I can bring out for a snack."

"We're fine, thank you." Emily declined. Morgan just grinned at her and shifted in his chair before asking "What's on the menu tonight, tidbit?"

Just because she knew it would perk Spencer up, she changed what she'd been planning on making, instead switching it to something that was easy but that she knew was one of his favorite meals and that, luckily enough, she had all the fixings for. "Chicken fried steak with sausage gravy, biscuits, and mashed potatoes." She answered. It was absolutely worth it to watch the way Spencer's head shot up toward her and he grinned. "Have I told you I love you?" He asked laughingly.

Mikayla pretended an offended look even as her eyes danced with mirth. "Not since you left. I'm feeling sorely neglected, husband."

"Then allow me to correct that oversight." To her absolute surprise, he reached up and tugged on her waist, toppling her down into his lap. The fact that it didn't scare her at all, in fact it made her laugh, was enough to have her grin growing even wider. With his arms around her to keep her from falling, he bent her back and gave her a quick, warm kiss as the laughter of their friends echoed around them. "I love you, Mikayla Rae."

She couldn't help but laugh as he sat her up. Instead of rising, she adjusted her seat, making herself more comfortable. "You had better, otherwise this would be extremely awkward." She quipped.

"Quite so."

Their teasing was cut off by the sound of someone coming down the stairs. The two turned their heads to see Betsy Ann coming down, her granddaughter cradled in her arms. Ever since that day that Spencer had laid down the law, the woman hadn't said another word against Amelia. If anything, she'd gone the other route entirely. The woman practically doted on the little girl now. Smile in place, Betsy Ann made her way toward them, calling out "Someone woke up and I do believe she was looking for her Mama and Daddy."

Mikayla didn't rise, simply held her arms out, taking her little girl when Betsy Ann got close. Amelia easily made the transfer, settling in against her with a gurgle. Her little arms waved around and her eyes were wide and bright on them. "Hello there." Mikayla said happily, cradling her close. "Hello, sweetheart."

Resting his chin on Mikayla's shoulder, Spencer looked down at Amelia, one of his hands reaching around to take hold of her small one, waving it slightly. "Hello, sweet girl."

Held by her husband and cradling her daughter, with her friends talking across the table with her mother, Mikayla felt safe, secure, and surrounded by love. When Spencer turned to kiss her neck, murmuring "I love you" so quiet that the others voices almost drown it out, she sighed a little in contentment.

* * *

They didn't get a chance to talk about work again until that night, once everyone was in bed. Memaw and Betsy Ann were tucked in their room, Amelia had been fed and put to bed in the crib that JJ had brought over, no longer sleeping in her bassinette, and Morgan was down on the couch like always. It was their first night without the protection detail outside and Spencer, Mikayla and Morgan were all feeling that lack. It had them just slightly nervous.

Because of that, Mikayla knew her and Spencer wouldn't be getting any sleep any time soon, so she figured it was the best time to talk about work. Spencer, however, had an entirely different idea. As soon as she brought the topic up, he shook his head. "No."

"What?" She raised her eyebrows, surprised by the firmness in his tone.

"Not tonight, Mikayla, please." And suddenly he was sighing, some of that outer shield he was so damn good at dropping away, showing her just how exhausted he really was underneath. "Not tonight. Tomorrow, I promise, we'll talk about this. Tonight, please, just let me hold you a little while. I just, I need…" he trailed off, obviously frustrated. But she understood. Fear of going back to work, of what that could mean for them, was eating at him and right now all he wanted was to hold her in his arms and know that she was here with him and she was okay. All of a sudden, that sounded like exactly what she needed, too. Without another word she climbed onto the bed and into his arms.

Though they didn't sleep, they drifted in and out over the next couple hours, just needing that reassurance of being together. But Spencer grew slightly restless and eventually, he tried shifting away from Mikayla. When he felt her stir, he kissed her temple. "I'm just going to go get something to drink." He murmured reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll be right back."

"Mm." Stretching her arms, she ignored him and sat up. "I'm coming with you." She gave him no time to protest it. Climbing to her feet, she stretched her arms above her head and Spencer found himself having to look away. The more comfortable that she grew around him, the more she started to move and act like her old self, slightly more comfortable in her own skin. Spencer couldn't help the way his body wanted to respond to that. Tonight she was dressed in a pair of red plaid pajama pants and one of his few t-shirts, which was trying to slip off of one shoulder and hung halfway down her thighs. She looked…amazing.

He turned away before that thought could get out of control. Out of habit, he grabbed his gun the same as he always did if he went downstairs at night. Not only did it make him feel safer, but it eased Mikayla as well. If he didn't, she would start to panic.

The two quietly made their way downstairs, trying to make sure they didn't wake Morgan as they went. The staircase went halfway down and then flattened out before turning and finishing going down. On the flat spot, Spencer almost tripped, thumping the wall slightly as he went. For the millionth time since moving in, he swore to himself to get a lamp for here so he could stop doing this. It wasn't the first time he'd tripped on that last step. Behind him, Mikayla was smothering snickers. He continued down the stairs, turning to give in to a childish urge and stick his tongue out at her. That only made her giggles come out more, which she kept trying to smother behind her hand, trying not to make noise to wake Morgan. He was a light sleeper.

Spencer had just cleared the last step when something moved off to his left. He turned, thinking it was Morgan, ready to apologize for the noise he made, when something hard slammed into his stomach and sent him flying into the wall.


	15. Chapter 15

Terror was a tangible thing inside of Mikayla. When she saw Spencer go flying into the wall, she swore her heart stopped beating for just one moment. Before he could recover enough to lift his gun, the thing that had hit him—oh sweet Heavens, was that a bat?—slammed his hand next, sending the gun flying. Mikayla's feet felt frozen in place when she saw Spencer drop down and the man of her nightmares come stepping out of the shadows. It was as if the terror in her gripped tightly, holding her in place so that she couldn't move, couldn't speak, could barely even breathe. Colby was smiling at her as he stood over Spencer, bat in hand, giving her that look that always made her skin crawl. "Hello, Mikayla."

Just as she opened her mouth to scream, to do anything, Colby's other hand lifted and she saw with horror that he held a gun in that hand. _Oh, Lord, please Lord no_ her mind begged. From where he was on the floor, Spencer saw the gun too, going absolutely still. "Make one sound to alert anyone and I swear, I'll shoot the little runt here." Colby said. His smile stayed in place and his voice stayed even, making the words so much scarier. The point of the gun shifted to point toward Spencer. The fear grew a notch. No! She couldn't let this happen. There were too many people to protect in this house. Too many people that mattered to her. _Where is Morgan? Why isn't he in here? What did Colby do to him?_

Spencer seemed to be thinking the same thing. He was slowly straightening up on the floor, crouching now instead of lying there. "What did you do to Morgan, Colby?" He asked in a slow, calm voice. He looked perfectly in control despite being on the ground with a gun to his head. "That's Morgan's gun. What did you do to him, Colby? He's innocent in this. You're not the type to hurt innocent people."

"He's not innocent!" Colby hissed, eyes snapping down to Spencer, his smile dropping away. The hand holding the gun shook slightly. "He's just as guilty as you are! But I didn't kill him. It's not his fault you tricked him. I just knocked him out, he'll be fine."

"How'd you get in past the security system?" Spencer asked. Despite what Mikayla thought, he was nowhere near as calm as he looked. On the inside his stomach felt like it was slick with a thick layer of panic that was threatening to rise and choke him with every word. Right now he was the only thing between his wife and her monster and he was at a distinct disadvantage. His gun was off to the right, too far away for him to reach. Colby could easily shoot one of them before Spencer even got his gun back in his hand. He was left with only one weapon—his mind. Pain was nothing, fear was nothing. They only served to sharpen his mind even more.

Colby sneered down at him as if his question were something pathetic. "You think it was hard for me to get around that fucking system? No alarm system can keep me out. I majored in computer science, you fucking retard." He sneered at him. "And you're supposed to be a genius. Well you're not getting in my head! I know your tricks!"

Knew his tricks, did he? Spencer seethed on the inside. His mind was racing to try to think of what to do. He had to be so very careful about this. Not only did he have Mikayla behind him to protect, but Memaw, Betsy Ann and Amelia upstairs. The last thing he needed was to do something that would have that gun going off wild. He needed to think. Treat this like it was just any job, as if his very existence wasn't at stake behind him. Cautiously he raised his hands out to the side. Then, before Colby could blink, Spencer straightened his body up, placing him directly between Colby and Mikayla. He'd counted on the man not shooting at that move; he wouldn't want to risk hitting his 'prize'. Thank God, it worked. Colby moved the gun but he didn't fire. He did, however, point it towards Spencer's head, the only part he could shoot without hitting Mikayla. "Colby, I know you don't want to hurt people." Spencer told him softly. "I know that. You're not a violent person."

"Get the hell out of my way and give her to me or I swear, I will fucking shoot you and you'll see how violent I can be." Colby snarled.

Mikayla's hands closed over the back of Spencer's shirt, fisting in the material, and he could feel the tremors shaking her. _Just hold on, love. Just hold on. And please forgive me for what I'm about to say_. "I'm not trying to stop you, Colby. Does it look like I'm fighting back? I know why you're here. You came because you love her, right? You're here to take your family back home. And I'm not going to stop you."

That seemed to stun the man. "What?"

"I'm not. She doesn't love me anymore. She told me so herself. She loves you." The words stuck in his throat slightly. He hoped that Colby didn't notice. He needed the man to believe this. He needed this to be the most believable lie he'd ever told.

Colby gaped at him only for a second, his gun wavering just a tiny bit and Spencer felt hope. Then the gun firmed out once more and Colby was glaring at him again. "If that's true, then let her out. You let her come over here, right now."

_Think fast, you idiot. Think fast!_ Spencer didn't miss a beat before he had an answer. "I thought you were here for your family, Colby." He said with false confusion.

"I am." Colby snarled.

"Well then you can't leave yet." _This had better work. If not, I'm going to have to think faster than ever._ "Amelia's still sleeping upstairs."

A faraway look came into Colby's eyes for a moment and Mikayla's hands tightened in Spencer's shirt. "Spencer!" She hissed softly. "What are you doing?"

He ignored her and instead made sure to watch Colby. This had to work. One look at the man's face, at the crazy light in his eyes, showed that he was delusional. By playing into that delusion, Spencer hoped that he could get Mikayla safely extracted from the situation. As soon as she was out of the picture, he could move. Until then he had to stay here and act as a shield. _Let this work, let this work, let this work._ "You can keep me right here under your gun while Mikayla goes to get her for you guys. You know what a gentle soul Mikayla is. She may not love me anymore, but she won't do anything to hurt me, and she wants to go home with you, Colby."

Realization must have kicked in for Mikayla. Her grip in his shirt relaxed slightly and she moved her head so that she could look at Colby. Pride filled Spencer when he heard her speak in a steady voice, playing right along with him. "He's right, Colby. Amelia deserves to be with her Daddy. We want to come home. I…I love you."

Those last three words were what did it. Spencer could see the light in Colby's eyes grow. His gun stayed pointed at Spencer's head, but he looked to Mikayla. "Go get her and we can go. We'll be happy again."

Mikayla caressed Spencer's back where Colby couldn't see, a silent message of love, and then she moved toward the stairs, cautiously heading up them. It was agonizing for Spencer to let her be exposed for that moment but there was no other choice. As she was part of the way up, Spencer took a step in the opposite direction of the stairs, seeing how Colby was watching her move. It disgusted him to know that the man was watching Mikayla's form, but he took advantage of it, inching just slightly closer, so slowly that Colby didn't even know he was moving. Just as Mikayla disappeared around the curve, Spencer judged his distance and knew it was now or never. With one hand he struck out, grabbing Colby's wrist and moving his hand sideways, while using his body to slam forward and knock him and Colby against the small wall there, the bat clattering down to the ground.

He got a blow in before Colby could blink, slamming his right hand down on Colby's right wrist, forcing him to drop the gun. When Spencer would have followed it with another blow, Colby struck out as well, almost knocking Spencer toward the ground. Spencer stumbled and, as he recovered, he saw that Colby was moving toward the gun. Without thought he reacted, diving and tackling the other man. The two hit the ground with a thud that jarred Spencer's teeth. Somewhere in the back of his mind he couldn't stop the thought _How the hell does Morgan tackle Unsubs all the time without breaking half the bones in his body?_ Then there was no time for thought. He was in a wrestling match that required all of his attention. The man was bigger than him, giving Colby the advantage of weight, but Spencer had training on his side. He flipped them, pinning Colby's back against the ground, and it was almost scary just how satisfying it felt to slam his fist into the man's face once, twice, before Colby recovered and used his weight to his advantage.

The larger man twisted them, managing to roll so that Spencer was underneath him, and the young genius prepared to snap his fist up in a move that would have made Morgan proud when suddenly there was a hard thud and a stunned look appeared on Colby's face. Spencer didn't bother questioning it. He let his fist snap up into Colby's cheek, sending the man sideways, and Spencer almost leapt to the other side, grabbing Morgan's gun off the floor at the same time that he rose to his feet, gun moving to point directly at Colby's head. "Do not move." This time he was the one snarling. Off to the side he saw Mikayla standing there, holding the bat in her hands, and equal parts fury and pride filled him. For the moment, he pushed them aside. "Mikayla, get my gun off the ground, please. Then go check on Morgan. If he's still out, bring me his cuffs."

"Help should be on the way. Memaw's calling it in." Mikayla told him as she moved to follow his directions. The woman walked over and picked up the gun, still carrying the bat, and managed to somehow look completely and utterly calm as she did so. She cast a look at the man who was holding his head and moaning on the ground and she glared. "Don't let him bleed all over my floor, husband." She ordered. Then she was disappearing toward the living room.

Moving forward, Spencer kept Colby in his line of sight while staying a safe distance back. It was amazing that Colby was still conscious! Multiple blows to the head and yet the man wasn't knocked out. Oh, he wasn't getting up. Hands to his head, he was curled up and moaning, but he was still conscious. "You've got one hell of a hard head." Spencer found himself muttering.

* * *

It took a few minutes before Mikayla and Morgan came into the room, Mikayla tucked under Morgan's arm as if supporting him as he walked. She got him seated in a chair before she moved toward Spencer, handing him a pair of cuffs. When he took them, she lifted the gun she still carried, his gun, and pointed it straight at Colby. "You cuff him, I've got this. And if you're still awake down there, Colby, remember that my Daddy taught me how to shoot. I promise, I won't miss your fat head."

Just as Spencer was on the man, cuffing his hands behind his back, the front door burst open and Dave, Emily, Aaron and JJ burst inside, local LEO's on their heels. Spencer ignored them for a minute and finished cuffing Colby. He didn't bother trying to get the man to his feet. He just straightened as soon as Colby was cuffed and stepped back, allowing room for the others to come in. Secure now that he was restrained, Mikayla lowered the gun and smiled over at the slightly stunned agents. "You guys are just in time to take the trash out." She told them. "He's all yours." Beside her, Morgan started to snicker despite the blood dripping from his head.

While some of the local officers moved toward Colby, Spencer went around them all and to Morgan, who was busy sitting and glaring now while Mikayla bustled over with a towel, pressing it to the bleeding wound on the side of his head. "Are you okay, Morgan?" Spencer asked him quickly.

"Yeah." Morgan grumbled. He winced slightly as Mikayla applied pressure, but he didn't protest it. He sighed and looked up at Spencer. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know how the hell he got it. One minute I was sleeping, the next minute I heard something and I was sitting up, but the something hit me in the head and everything went black."

The team reached them in time to hear Morgan's comment and Emily smiled at him, obviously relieved to find he was okay. "Good thing you've got a hard head then, huh?" she teased.

Morgan took over holding the towel Mikayla had given him, turning his head a little to glare at Emily. Spencer stopped paying attention to them. He turned toward Mikayla and gave her a glare of his own, the fear finally catching up with him. "You fool." He said furiously, taking a step toward her. "What did you think you were doing? I sent you up there to get you out of the way!"

Instead of cowering back from him, Mikayla put her hands on her hips and glared right back at him. "Don't you take that tone with me, Dr. Reid! I was not going to cower upstairs while a delusional lunatic was downstairs trying to kill my husband."

"I was…!"

"I don't want to hear it." She cut him off. To the amazement and amusement of the rest of the room, the tiny woman glared at Spencer and pointed a finger, snapping out "Now you be quiet and sit yourself down there in that chair before you track blood all over my floor or, so help me, I'll make you scrub it all up. Do I make myself clear?" What made it even more amusing to the others was the way that Spencer sighed, rolled his eyes, but did exactly as he was told. She nodded one firmly. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit and make sure Mama and Memaw know everything's okay. While I do that, you give your report. And do not get up from that chair." That said, she pressed a towel into his hand, pushing it up to rest against his lip, which he dimly realized was bleeding. When had that happened? Mikayla looked down at him, her eyes flashing with something before she gave in and kissed his forehead. Then she turned and was scurrying up the stairs.

With a shake of his head, Spencer looked to Aaron and smiled sheepishly before giving his boss a run down. When he was done, he grimaced and dabbed at his lip with the towel, looking down at his lap with frustration. "I can't believe I didn't think of him majoring in computer science. Computers were always a hobby of his. Anything electronic, really. It would make sense that that talent grew. I should have factored in that variable."

"Just because someone majored in computer science doesn't mean they know how to disable an alarm system, Spence." JJ pointed out. "That shows a more criminal lifestyle than a college education. You don't have any reason to feel guilty over this."

"She's right, kiddo." Smiling, Dave hooked his hand in his pockets. "Plus, it looks like he underestimated the two of you more than you did him. That was some quick thinking on your part. And I have to say, you've got one heck of a fierce woman."

A husky laugh drew their eyes toward the staircase just as Memaw stepped off the last step, her cane in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. "Don't mess with a Southern woman, Agent Rossi." She told him with a wink. "And don't mess with my Granddaughter. We may be petite women, but they say dynamite comes in small packages." She made her way toward the two injured men, eyes scanning and assessing as she got close. Reaching out, she pulled on the towel on Morgan's head, checking it. "You don't need stitches. I've got some butterfly tape in here I'll put on."

"Here, let me help." JJ offered her. She and Memaw had become fast friends and often enjoyed one another's company when JJ visited.

The woman nodded and set the kit down on the table by the boys. Confident that JJ would tape up Morgan, Memaw turned to Spencer. "The baby woke, so I told Mikayla to take care of her and that I'd come take care of your sorry self. So, let's take a look at you, child."

"I'm fine, Memaw." Spencer sighed out. A sharp rap to the head had his head shooting up and an indignant look appearing on his face that had those around him smothering their humor. Well and thoroughly frustrated with the entire evening, Spencer for once didn't restrain his mouth, words coming out before he could even think about what he was saying and who he was saying it too. "Dammit, I've been hit enough for one night. I don't need you rapping on my skull as well, Memaw!"

She reached out and cupped his chin, tipping his face a little so she could move his other hand and look at his lip, which had finally stopped bleeding. "Then don't be stubborn, Spencer Reid." She scolded. Her tone, however, had softened considerably. She inspected his lip and looked for other injuries on his face. Despite her insistence, he wouldn't lift his shirt for her to look at his stomach, telling her simply "I'm just a little bruised, that's all. Trust me, nothing's broken." She let that go, moving instead to the hand that had been hit to make him drop his gun. The sight of the bruising already building there had most of them wincing. She probed firmly at the bones, testing them all in an efficient manner that showed a woman well used to dealing with potential injuries. When she was done, she declared it not broken, but ordered him to ice it later to take down the swelling.

Once she was done, Aaron stepped forward, well able to see the stress that was fracturing Spencer's control. He put a hand on his youngest agent's shoulder, drawing his eyes up. "Why don't you go upstairs, Reid? We'll handle things down here with the police and get the house cleared out for you. Tomorrow is soon enough to come down to the Bureau and make your reports. Go upstairs with your wife and enjoy the fact that you're safe and free."

Relief lit Spencer's expressive eyes. "Thank you, Sir."

"I've still got your couch for the night, kid." Morgan called out. "I'm not up for driving home yet. And Mikayla promised waffles in the morning."

With a laugh, Spencer waved a hand at his friend before making his way past the group and toward the stairs. His smile faded as he turned the corner and was out of sight of everyone. When he reached the top landing, he saw the door to Amelia's room cracked open and he could make out both Mikayla and Betsy Ann in there. Right in that moment, he didn't know if he was up for dealing with Mikayla's mother. He wasn't sure if he was up for dealing with anyone, really. So he quietly made his way to their room and then into their private bathroom.

First things first, he took care of business. Then, once his hands were washed, he stood over the sink and splashed water on his face. The fear he'd felt still sat in his stomach, leaving behind a sick feeling that was threatening to gag him if he wasn't careful. To distract himself from it, he stripped out of his clothes, putting them in the laundry basket, and he took a second to look at the bruising on his stomach. Colors were already blooming there and he knew they'd get darker before they got better. It was just a fact of life for him that he bruised so easily. But careful testing proved he was going to not just be bruised, but very tender for a while.

There were no words that could describe the terror he'd felt when that bat had caught him across the stomach. Or when he'd seen the gun. Even as he'd tried so hard to think like a profiler, to use his brain to get them out of this, his heart had been terrified, pounding in his chest at the idea of losing Mikayla once more. He didn't know if he could've handled that. Not a second time. The fear grew and he had to brace his hands against the sink as he gagged under the feel of it. When he was sure his body was under control, he shoved away from the sink, making his way back out to the bedroom. He was only halfway to the dresser when the door opened and Mikayla came in.

She was just shutting the door when she looked up and saw him standing there in only his boxers. Her eyes went to his stomach, widening at the sight of the bruising. "Oh, Spencer…" With that soft murmur, she rushed toward him, hands going to his stomach. The instant her fingers touched his skin, Spencer couldn't control his reaction anymore. He grabbed her shirt and yanked her close, almost crushing her against him with the strength of his hug. Instead of startling or protesting, Mikayla didn't hesitate to worm her arms upwards and get them around his neck, squeezing just as tight, burying her face against his neck as his hug tightened and he straightened, pulling her off her feet.

Tears slid down Spencer's cheeks without shame. He felt her head turn and then she was kissing his neck, whispering against his skin. "I love you. I love you, Spencer. I'm right here and I love you and we're okay. We're all okay."

With her against him, that wave of fear was beginning to abate. Feeling the touch of her in his arms, hearing her sweet voice whispering over and over in his ear, Spencer began to think that maybe she was right. Maybe, things were finally going to be okay.

* * *

**There you go, folks. Hope you enjoyed that. I did :) Now, I've got another chapter and an epilogue, I think. Then this story is done. Or at least, this part of it. Wow. I can definitely see myself coming back to this story in the future for fun, you know? I really enjoy Mikayla.**

**Anyway, to let you guys know, I have a poll up to vote for what story to start next. This story only has two chapters left and my other one is almost done and so is Comfort. Each one is at their ends :'( So I need to know what to work on next! So, I'm shamelessly here asking you to go ahead and go vote! Thanks folks! And thanks for your reviews on this, you've all been WONDERFUL! To the person that had to state that anyone who hunts deserves all bad things that come their way, I'm so terribly sorry that it offended you and I'm sorry you feel that way, but please, keep your offensiveness to yourself. I find that very offensive and rude. If you wish to activate for animal rights, please, feel free, but not in my reviews on my stories. This is not the place for them. Especially seeing as how I grew up in a hunting town :P So, I'm sorry, but keep that kind of stuff to yourself.**

**Sincerely,**

**evil-cliff-hanger woman (thank you, dcatt for my awesome new title ;D lol)**


	16. Chapter 16

A little over a month had gone by since that fateful day at the Reid household. A month since the horror that had been stalking their lives finally began to come to an end. For once, catching the bad guy didn't completely end it for Spencer, or for his family. Nothing ever ended that smoothly for the families left behind from a crime, as he learned. First came the reports the next day, made down at the Bureau. After that came all the waiting until trial and then the actual trial itself, all of which took its toll on their household. Though Colby was no longer a physical threat to them, he remained a mental and emotional one. Nightmares haunted the young couple, plaguing their sleep with what had happened and what might have been.

Spencer could honestly say if it wasn't for friends and family, they never would have made it through the past five weeks. Memaw and Betsy Ann stayed with them the whole time, helping out with Amelia, keeping things together around the house and acting as a support system. As soon as Colby had been caught and calls had been made, Mikayla's Dad caught a flight to them. That was one positive memory in the whole thing. Spencer could perfectly recall the way that Mikayla had looked when she'd opened the door and found her father standing on the front step, Spencer standing behind the man, having just brought him as a surprise from the airport. Mikayla's whole face had lit and tears had spilled down her cheeks even as she'd laughed and launched herself at the man. The absolute joy on her face in that memory could still make Spencer smile. Alan was only able to stay through the weekend, but it was enough for them. They made plans to get together again as soon as possible.

The trial itself was, by far and above, the easiest thing for them. Part of Spencer had worried that it would push Mikayla. That it would terrify her to walk into the courtroom and have to step up and there and speak her piece. Yet he had been so proud of her as she'd calmly taken the stand and answered each question directed her way. Though some questions made her emotional, she never fully broke down up there. Later, she told Spencer that she refused to give Colby that. She saved her tears for at night where she would lie in their big bed and Spencer would hold her close as she cried. Sometimes there were just tears until she fell asleep. Sometimes, she spoke, telling him things that he may not have wanted to hear, but that he knew he needed to hear and she needed to say.

She continued to see her psychologist once a week and it seemed to be helping. Little by little, day by day, Spencer was watching Mikayla come back to herself. Becoming more of who she was. Two weeks after Colby had been arrested, Morgan had been over for dinner at their house. When the man had mock teased Mikayla—or 'tidbit' as he called her often—it had made Spencer grin to see Mikayla mock punch the man's arm. Weeks ago she wouldn't have dared to touch, let alone pretend to hit. That was a glimpse of the girl he'd gotten to know at school.

Because of the trial, Spencer's return to active work was delayed. He returned to office work two week after Colby was arrested and now, at five weeks, he was on his second trip with the team. The first one had been hard on all parties involved. Well, okay, he could admit to himself that it had been harder on him than her. Mikayla had seemed to handle it well, only insisting that he called at night or in the morning if at all possible. He was the one who found it extremely difficult to fall asleep in a bed that was empty and to not be woken up by a baby crying.

Now, sitting on the jet as the team came back from his second case back, Spencer smiled to himself as he thought of going home. He didn't even realize that the team was watching him until someone spoke. "A little excited to head home, Spence?" JJ teased him.

Startling, Spencer turned his head, finding everyone watching him and everyone smiling. A slight flush filled his cheeks, yet still he smiled. There was no way he could deny the truth of the statement. "It's a sensation that's going to take some getting used to." He admitted to them. "I'm not used to having someone waiting at home for me."

"How's she adjusting to this?" Dave asked carefully. "It's not exactly the easiest life for a spouse."

"Actually, she seems to be adjusting rather well. I brought it up with her before I came back to work, to make sure that she understood what things could be like and that she was still okay with it and she reminded me that she was the one to encourage me to take the offer in the first place and that we discussed all of this back then. She said she accepted it then and she'll accept it now." She'd also told him that it made her proud to know the people that he helped. That, having been a victim herself, it made her feel very proud to know that there were people like her out there that he was helping to bring home to their families. Plus, it helped that they'd got the proper permits so that she could keep a gun in the house while he was gone. "I thought it might be difficult for her now that Memaw and Betsy Ann have gone back home, but she seems a little more peaceful."

The mention of those two brought laughter to the jet. "That Memaw is one heck of a character." Emily said with a chuckle. She slanted a look over toward Dave. "I think she really liked you, Rossi."

As the rest of the jet fell into teasing Dave, Spencer just sat back in his seat and smiled, feeling more at peace than he had in years.

* * *

Hoisting his bag over his shoulder, Spencer waved one last time to Morgan as the man took off toward home. Then he fished out his keys and made his way toward the front door. It was the middle of the night; Mikayla would long since be in bed. Spencer planned on joining her just as soon as he hopped in the shower and got himself clean. There'd been no time to shower from the end of the case to getting on the jet and he felt sore and dirty. So after letting himself in, he locked the door once more, made sure the alarm was enabled, and quietly made his way upstairs with a shower in mind. He couldn't stop himself from peeking in Amelia's room, smiling as he saw the young girl sleeping peacefully in her crib. On soft feet he made his way over to tuck her blanket back over her. At two months old, she was looking more and more like Mikayla every day. She was a beautiful little girl, their Amelia Jane, and Spencer never once regretted the decision to accept her as his.

Now that she was tucked back in, he quietly made his way back out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Next, his tired feet carried him to his bedroom. He was just as quiet as he opened that door and slipped inside. The room was lit only by the soft glow of the lamp on the far dresser, allowing him to see the slight form under the blankets on the bed. Spencer set his go back down by the dresser and emptied out his pockets into the dish there before moving to lock his gun into the small gun safe in the dresser drawer.

He stopped off beside the bed, unable to help himself. With a little smile, he bent and pressed a light kiss to Mikayla's hair, the only part of her visible from under the blankets. Like him, she was used to warmer climate and was often cold here.

Stepping into the shower was an almost instantly relieving sensation. It felt so good to stand underneath the heated spray and wash away the case. The warm water and the familiar routine helped soothe away some of the residual tension that was always there after cases. By the time he finally stepped out, he was much more relaxed than he'd been when he stepped in. He dried himself off before realizing he hadn't brought anything in with him to change into. He shrugged and wrapped the towel around his waist, taking a few minutes to brush out his hair and brush his teeth. When he was done, he stepped out into the bedroom.

He was pulling open his dresser drawer when there was soft shifting behind him, followed by a voice that was a little husky with sleep. "Mm. You're home."

Pulling out a pair of boxers, Spencer set them on top the dresser and looked over his shoulder. "I am. I didn't want to call, what with it being so late."

He saw the blankets move as she shifted and sat up in bed. With her hair tousled and her eyes still heavy from sleep, she looked absolutely beautiful to him. Spencer had to turn back to the dresser to keep himself from reacting too strongly. Between the mental and medical reasons, the two had gone no further than kissing and cuddling since she'd come back home. He had no problems with that—he understood and he would never pressure her!—but that didn't mean that he could stop himself from wanting her.

Lost in thought, he didn't hear her rise from the bed, or as she made her way toward him. He didn't notice she was there until he straightened back up from grabbing a night shirt from his drawer and found her right beside him. When he saw her, all words dried up in his throat. She was standing there in one of his FBI t-shirts and what looked to be…nothing else. He couldn't help the way his eyes traveled over her bare feet, up her calves and thighs to where the shirt hit teasingly at mid-thigh. One creamy shoulder was partially exposed as the shirt slipped to the side a little. He was a slender man, but she was petite in comparison to him, making his clothes much too big for her.

There was something in Mikayla's eyes, nerves and maybe a small trace of fear, but her hand was steady when she lifted it to place it over his heart. He wanted to say something, anything, but even if he could have made words, something told him he shouldn't. There was a look on her face that clearly told him she had something to say.

She bit her lip and her eyes dropped to where her hand still rested on his heart. "Spencer…we've always been able to talk about things, you and I. No matter what it is, we've always been able to talk about it. To be blunt and honest with one another. Right?"

Now he was worrying a little. Where was this going? "Correct."

"My psychologist says I should just be blunt about this. But I, well…." Frustrated, she puffed out a breath. By sheer will she made herself lift her chin so that her eyes met his. "Ever since I got the all clear on my health from my doctor last week, you, you haven't tried to, well…you haven't tried to touch me." She said the last part in a rush, obviously eager to get it all said and done. For his part, Spencer was stunned. "I just, I need to know if you, if you don't want me anymore. I mean, after everything I did with Colby, I'd understand, but I just, I need to know."

Not want her? She thought he didn't want her? "How could I not want you?" He asked incredulously. The very idea was preposterous. "I've always wanted you, Mikayla. I'm always going to. You are the single most beautiful woman in the world to me. Of course I want you. I just wasn't sure if _you_ would want _me_ right now." One of his hands came up, cupping her cheek. "You've been through so many things. I wanted this to happen when you were ready and not a moment before." Spencer poured all the love he felt into his words, wanting her to hear the truth in them. "He took the right to choose away from you. I wanted to give you that back."

The nerves and fear that he'd seen in her eyes before was fading away now, replace with relief, joy and love. It lit her eyes with that light he so loved to see; that inner fire that was pure Mikayla.

When she stepped back from him, he was slightly surprised. Then she stunned him completely when she told him "If the choice is mine, then I choose yes." Reaching down, she took hold of the hem of the shirt and pulled it up, up, over her head, and he swore his heart stopped at the show of beautiful, pale skin. The shirt dropped to the ground on the side and he saw her body language shift, slightly uncomfortable, something she hadn't been around him since their very first time. "I, I'm a little different than before. A few new scars. A little more to my, my hips…"

The nerves were trying to slip back in and Spencer reacted instinctively. He let his love and lust show on his face as he stepped toward her, his hands coming up to cup the face he treasured more than anything. "You are beautiful." He whispered before bending his head and pressing a light kiss to her lips. "Stunning." Another kiss. "Magnificent." A longer kiss this time.

They broke the kiss, smiling at one another. "Take me to bed, Spencer. Make new memories with me."

What else could he do? Bending, Spencer scooped her up into his arms, taking her over and laying her out on the bed. His heart was racing as he looked down at her, yet he felt no nerves, no fear. This was Mikayla and he knew her, had known her body well at one time, and there was nothing to fear here. When she lifted her arms and drew him down to her, he came easily, letting his body stretch over hers in a way that was so familiar and they had both been denied for far too long. They shared a kiss that was long and deep and Spencer swore he felt it straight down to his soul.

He knew the fear was still lurking in the background for her. The bad memories, waiting to pop out and taunt her. So he did everything he could to ease those. To make new memories as she'd said. With tongue and teeth and hands he set about exploring the body that he had once known almost as well as his own. He found that some things definitely hadn't changed. The shiver she gave when he kissed along her neck, or the throaty moan he drew when he nipped along her collar bone. He found the old scars he'd known. The one on her thigh from where she'd fallen climbing a tree as a child. The one behind her right knee from a bicycle accident when she was eleven. There were new, yes, but that was okay. Bodies changed. She was still his and she was still the most beautiful woman to him.

Spencer smiled against her skin as he drove her wild, working to chase away every bad memory that had been pressed against her skin, replacing them with both the familiar and the new, until she was writhing underneath him, begging and pleading in that husky southern drawl and he could take it no more. He slid up, pressing his lips to hers as the rest of him slid in, pressing against the wet heat, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning when her body tightened around his. He pressed his forehead to hers, felt her arms and legs wrap around him, and then it was just the heat between them. They were moving, bodies pressing together and drawing apart in that age old dance, reaching and reaching for that final fulfillment that all lovers seek. He was watching her face when it stole over her; saw the way her body arched, her head falling back, that glorious hair spilled all around her as she cried out her pleasure to the ceiling. Her body clenched around his and Spencer lost his own control, the pleasure in him exploding, taking him to that final ledge and throwing him over. As it left him and his body went lax, he barely had the presence of mind to pull back a little and roll as he laid down so that he wouldn't crush her into the bed.

It took a while before either of them found their words. Mikayla was curled against his side, one leg thrown over his, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her arm over his stomach. It was Mikayla who spoke first, her accent thicker with satisfaction and a slightly sleepy sound. "I love you, Spencer Reid." Then she let out a husky little chuckle. "And I'm glad you're home."

"I love you, Mikayla Reid." Turning, he kissed her forehead. "And I'm glad you're home, too." And Spencer knew now, holding her there against him, that they were both finally home. Together.

* * *

**I really had planned one more chap and an epilogue, but this was what came. Apparently these two were ready to move on. I could only go where they wanted.**

**Well, this has been an AMAZING story to write (who would've guessed I'd fall so in love with writing a HET?) I hope I did a good job on my first het story for you guys and I hop you all enjoyed the ride as much as I did. I can honestly tell you that I've fallen in love with his little family and whether it's for one shots or a sequel, I WILL be coming back to them. I have to. There's just so much to tell, you know? What happens when they have another child, how she'll handle that pregnancy, how Reid will handle it, how they'll handle anything else that comes their way (any suggestions are always welcome - just PM them to me lol)**

**Thank you all for your reviews, favs, follows, all of that. You guys are fantastic! I hope to see you around on other stories and don't forget to vote in the poll for what story you want next. I"ll be picking one from there and then one that I want (once LEE and Comfort are done) **

**Take care!**


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